£ 

P: 
o 
fe 

>— i 
J 

K     O    fc 

<!   «   r        ° 

^    w    UH      f 
r>    H    >N     r 

ggo  fc 
2     h 

CO 

W 


i 

O 


o,a>  . 


oo 


ob 


i       •       ^ 

6  a-   ° 


ved 


•8 


THE 


AMERICAN  SCHOOL  LIBRARY. 


PUBLISHED   UNDER    THE    DIRECTION   OF 

THE  AMERICAN  SOCIETY  FOR  THE  DIFFUSION 
OF  USEFUL  KNOWLEDGE. 


"  Knowledge  it  like  the  light  of  heaven  :  free,  pure,  pleasant,  exhaustion.  It  invite*  all 
to  possession  :  it  admits  of  no  pre-emption,  no  rights  exclusive,  no  monopoly." 

"Promote,  as  objects  of  primary  importance,  institu.ioni  for  the  general  diffusion  of 
knotoUdge"— Washington's  Fartweli  Addrest. 


NE  W-YORK: 
HARPER    &    BROTHERS, 

NO.   82    CLIFF-STREET. 

1838. 


THE  AMERICAN  SOCIETY 

FOR  THE  DIFFUSION  OF  USEFUL  KNOWLEDGE. 

President : 

Honourable  STKPHUN  VAN  RKNSSELAER. 
Vice-Presidents : 


His  Excellency  Gov.Marcy,  Albany. 
H  >n.  Albert  Gallatm,  New  York. 
Hon.  Reuben  H.  Walworth,  N.  Y. 
Rt.  Rev.  Benj.  T.  Onderdonk,  N.  Y. 


Hon.  Franklin  Pierce, 
Francis  Wayland,  D.D., 


N.  H. 
R.I. 


Hon.  Theodore  Frelinghuysen,  N.  .1. 
Hon.  Samuel  L.  Southard,  N.  J. 
Hon.  Robert  C.  Greer,  Penn. 

Hon.  Roger  B.  Taney,  Md. 

Hon  Windham  Robertson,  Va. 
Hon.  William  C.  Rives,  Va. 

General  James  Hamilton,  6.  C. 
Hon.  Henry  Hitchcock,  Ala. 

Hon.  Alexander  Porter,  La. 

Hon.  Felix  Grundy,  Tenn. 

Rt.  Rev.  Charles  P.  M'llvaine,  Ohio. 
His  Excellency  (»ov.  Duncan,  111. 
Henry  R,  Schoolcraft,  Esq.,  Mich, 

Board  of  Directors : 


His  Ex.  Gov.  Everett,  LL  D,  Mass. 
Hon.  Dan.  Webster,  LL.D.,  Boston. 
James  Milnor,  D.D.,  New- York. 
His  Excellency  Gov.  Dunlap,  Me. 
Hon.  Ruel  Williams,  Me. 

Hon.  Horace  Everett,  Vt. 

Hon.  Roger  M.  Sherman,        Conn. 
Hon.  Horace  Binney,  LL.D.,  Penn. 
Hon.  James  Hayard, 
Thomas  Sewall,  M  D., 
Hon.  William  Gaston, 
Hon.  John  M.  Berrien, 
Hon.  Robert  J.  Walker, 
Hon.  Thomas  J.  Lacy, 
Hon.  Henry  Clay,  LL.D., 
John  C.  Young,  D.D., 
Hon    William  Hendricks, 
Hon.  Lewis  F.  Linn, 


Del. 
B.C. 

N.  C. 

Geo. 
Miss. 

Ark. 

Ky. 

Ky. 

Ind. 

Mo. 


Alonzo  Potter,  D  D.,       New- York. 
John  Knox,  D.D., 
Jacob  Janeway,  D.D., 
Rev.  John  A.  Vaughan, 
Rev.  Gorham  D.  Abbott,  " 

Hon.  Benj.  F.  Butler,  LL.D.,      " 
Hon.  Samuel  T.  Armstrong,   Mass. 
Hon.  Samuel  Hubbard.  LL.D.,    " 
Hon.  John  Sergeant,  Pennsylvania. 
N.  Y. 


Thomas  M'Auley,  D.D.,  New- York. 

Francis  L.  Hawks,  D.D., 

Thomas  Dewitt,  D.D., 

Rev.  George  Potts, 

Rev.  John  Proud  fit, 

Prof.  Benj.  Silliman,  LL.D.,    Conn. 


Peter  G.  Stuyvesant,  Esq., 

Hugh  Maxwell,  Esq., 

Charles  Butler,  Esq., 

Hiram  Ketchnn^,  Esq., 

James  Brown,  Esq., 

Frederic  A.  Tracy,  Esq 

Eleazer  Lord,  Esq., 

Thomas  Cock,  M  D., 

John  T.  Gilchrist,  Ksq., 

Samuel  W.  Setori,  Esq., 

Isaac  Collins,  Esq.,     Pennsylvania. 

Executive  Committee; 
JAMES  BROWN,  Esq.,  New- York,  Chairman. 


Hon.  Samuel  Jones, 
Hon.  Myndert  Van  Schaick, 
Hon.  Heman  Lincoln, 
Bradford  Sunaner,  Esq., 


N.Y. 
Mass. 

N.Y. 


David  Graham,  Esq.. 

Timothy  R.  Green,  Esq., 

George  S.  Robbins,  Esq.,  " 

Cornelius  Baker,  Esq.,  N.  Y. 

John  Griscom,  LL.D., 

Anthony  P.  Halsey,  Esq.,  " 

Robert  Kelly,  Esq., 

Isaac  S.  Loyd,  Esq.,  Pennsylvania. 

Thomas  J.  Wharton,  Esq., 


John  Torrey,  M.D.,  Med.  Coll.,  N.  Y. 
Alonzo  Potter,  D.D.,  U.  Col.,        " 
Wilbur  Fisk,D.D.,Wes.Uni.,  Conn, 


Rev.  Jacob  Abbott, 
Rev.  Bela  B.  Edwards., 


Boston. 


Rev.  Leonard  Bacon,    New-Haven. 


Rev.  Calvin  E.  Stowe, 


Ohio. 


Charles  Butler,  Esq.,      New- York. 


Thomas  Cock,  M.D.,       New- York. 
Lewis  C.  Beck,  N.Y.  University, " 
William  Cooper,  Lye.  Nat.  Hist., <c 
John  T.  Gilchrist,  Esq  ,  « 

Timothy  R.  Green,  Esq.,  " 

\Tarinus  Willett,  M.D.,  *« 

William  Betts,  Esq., 
Henry  E.  Davies,  Esq., 


GORHA.M  D.  ABBOTT,  Secretary. 
ANTHONY  P.  HALSEY,  Treasurer. 


THE  AMERICAN  SCHOOL  LIBRARY. 


*  The  Society  for  the  Diffusion  of  Useful  Knowledge  present  to  the 
country  the  commencement  of  their  Library  for  schools,  designed  to  em- 
brace, when  completed,  a  few  hundred  volumes,  written  and  compiled 
with  special  reference  to  the  wants  of  the  youth  of  our  country.  It  will 
include  in  the  range  of  its  subjects  works  in  the  various  departments  of 
knowledge  most  interesting  and  useful  to  the  great  body  of  the  people, 
including  history,  voyages  and  travels,  biography,  natural  history,  the 
physical,  intellectual,  moral,  and  political  sciences,  agriculture,  manufac- 
tures, arts,  commerce,  the  belles  letires,  and  the  history  and  philosophy 
of  education. 

The  increasing  interest  in  the  subject  of  school  libraries  in  several  of 
the  States,  and  the  repeated  calls  upon  the  Committee  for  their  Library, 
have  induced  them  to  issue  the  present  selection  from  existing  publica- 
tions to  meet  the  immediate  wants  of  our  schools,  while  they  go  on,  as 
fast  as  possible,  to  complete  the  plan  announced  in  their  published  pro- 
spectus. They  will  regard,  in  the  execution  of  it,  the  different  ages, 
tastes,  circumstances,  and  capacities  of  readers. 

The  Committee  present  the  following  fifty  volumes,  chiefly  standard 
•works  of  permanent  interest  and  value,  which  have  already  received  ex- 
tensively the  public  approbation  in  this  country  and  in  Europe,  as  the 
commencement  of  the  series,  to  be  extended  from  time  to  time,  until  it 
shall  comprise  a  well-selected  and  comprehensive  Library  of  Useful 
Knowledge,  worthy  of  a  place  in  every  schoolroom  of  our  country. 

It  will  be  the  greatest  care  of  the  Committee,  that  the  whole  be  per- 
vaded and  characterized  by  a  spirit  of  Christian  morality  calculated  to 
refine  and  elevate  the  moral  character  of  our  nation. 

VOYAGES  AND  TRAVELS 
An  Historical  Account  of  the  Cir- 
cumnavigation of  the  Globe.    En- 
gravings. 

Narrative  of  Discovery  and  Adven- 
ture in  Africa.  From  the  Earliest 
Ages  to  the  Present  Time.  By 
Professor  Jameson,  and  James 
Wilson  and  Hugh  Murray,  Esqra. 
Lives  and  Voyages  of  Early  Navi- 
gators. Portraits. 


HISTORY. 

A  View  of  Ancient  and  Modern 
Egypt.  By  Rev.  M.  Russell,  LL.  I). 

Palestine,  or  the  Holy  Land.  From 
the  Earliest  Period  tn  the  Present 
Time.  By  Kev.  M.  Uussell,  LL.D. 

History  of  Chivalry  and  the  Cru- 
sades. By  G.  P.  R.  James.  En- 
gravings. 

The  History.of  Arabia,  Ancient  and 
Modern.  By  Andrew  Crichton. 
2  vols.  Engravings,  &c. 

The  Chinese.  A  general  Description 
of  the  Empire  of  China  and  its 
Inhabitants.  By  John  Francis 
Davis,  F.R.S.  With  Engravings. 

American  History.  By  the  Author 
of  "  American  Popular  Lessons." 
With  Engravings.  3  vols. 

American  Revolution.  By  B.  B 
Thatcher,  Esq. 

History  of  New- York.  By  William 
Dunlap. 

History  of  Virginia.  By  Uucle 
Philip. 


BIOGRAPHY. 
A  Life  of  Washington.    By  J.  K. 

Paulding,  Esq.     In  2  vols.    With 

Engravings. 
The   Life  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte. 

By  J.  G.  Lockhart,  Esq.  In  2  vote. 

With  Portraits. 
The  Life  and  Actions  of  Alexander 

the  Great.     By  the  Rev.  J.  Wil- 
liams.    With  a  Map. 
Memoir  of  the  Life  of  Peter  the 

Great.     By  John  Barrow,  Esq. 

Portrait. 


The  Life  of  Oliver  Cromwell.  By 
the  Rev.  M.  Russell,  LL.D.  ~ 
vols.  Portrait. 

Lives  of  Celebrated  Travellers.  By 
James  August  us  St.  John.  3  vols" 

Memoirs  of  Celebrated  Female  Sov- 
ereigns. By  Mrs.  Jameson.  2  vols. 

NATURAL  HISTORY. 

A  Popular  Guide  to  .the  Observation 
of  Nature  ;  or,  Hints  of  Induce- 
ment to  the  Study  of  Natural  Pro- 
ductions and  Appearances,  in  their 
Connexions  and  Relations.  By 
Robert  Mudie.  Engravings. 

The  Swiss  Family  Robinson ;  or. 
Adventures  of  a  Father  and  Mo- 
ther and  Four  Sons  on  a  Desert 
Island.  2  vols.  With  Engravings. 

The  American  Forest ;  or,  Uncle 
Philip's  Conversations  with  the 
Children  about  the  Trees  of  Amer- 
ica. With  numerous  Engravings. 

The  Natural  History  of  Insects.  In 
2  vols.  With  Engravings. 

Natural  History  ;  or,  Tools  and 
Trades  among  Inferior  Animals. 
By  Uncle  Philip. 

PHYSICAL  SCIENCE. 

The  Principles  of  Physiology,  ap- 
plied to  the  Preservation  of  Health, 
and  to  the  Improvement  of  Physi- 
cal and  Mental  Education.  By 
Andrew  Combe,  M.D. 

Letters  of  Euler  on  Different  Sub- 
jects of  Natural  Philosophy.  Ad- 
dressed to  a  German  Princess. 


Translated  by  Hunter.  With 
Notes,  and  a  Life  of  Euler,  by  Sir 
David  Brewster;  and  Additional 
Notes,  by  John  Griscom,  LL.D*. 
With  a  Glossary  of  Scientific 
Terms,  and  Engravings. 

INTELLECTUAL  SCIENCE. 

Inquiries  concerning  the  Intellectual 

Powers,  and  the  Investigation  of 

Truth.      By    John   Abercrombie, 

M.D.,F.R.S.     With  Questions. 

BELLES  LETTRES. 

Lectures    on    General    Literature, 
Poetry,  &c.  By  Jas.  Montgomery. 


MISCELLANEOUS. 

Indian  Traits;  being  Sketches  of 
the  Manners,  Customs,  and  Char- 
acter of  the  North  American  Na- 
tives. By  B.  B.  Thatcher,  Esq. 
2  vols.  With  Engravings. 

Perils  of  the  Sea  ;  being  Authentic 
Narratives  of  Remarkable  and  Af- 
fecting Disasters  upon  the  Deep. 
With  Engravings. 

The  Poor  Rich  Man  and  the  Rich 
Poor  Man.  By  Miss  C.  M.  Sedg- 
wick. 

The  Ornaments  Discovered.  By 
Mary  Hughs. 

The  Son  of  a  Genius.  By  Mrs. 
Hofland. 

The  Whale-fishery  and  the  Polar 
Seas.  By  Uncle  Philip. 


At  a  regular  meeting  of  the  Executive  Committee,  it  was  unanimously 
Resolved,  That  the  above-named  fifty  volumes  be  approved  and  adopted 
as  the  commencement  of"  The  American  School  Library,"  and  that  the 
same  be  earnestly  recommended  to  public  patronage. 

In  behalf  of  the  Committee, 

JAMES  BftowN,  Chairman,  J.  T.  GILCHRIST,  Secretary. 

A   P.  HALSKY,  JOHN  TORREY, 

THOMAS  COCK,  CHARLES  BUTLER. 

At  a  general  meeting  of  the  Society,  held  on  the  10th  of  May,  1838,  at 
the  Stuyvesant  Institute,  Broadway,  his  Excellency  Governor  MARCY  in 
the  chair,  ANTHONY  P.  HAI.SKV,  Secretary,  it  was  unanimously 

Resolved,  That  we  recommend  the  immediate  introduction  of  a  suitable 
Library  of  Useful  Knowledge  in  every  schoolroom  in  our  State :  and  that 
we  invite  the  attention  of  teachers,  of  school  committees,  and  of  every 
friend  of  education  and  of  the  universal  diffusion  of  knowledge  in  this  and 
in  oth^r  States,  to  "  The  American  School  Library,"  now  commenced  by 
this  Society.  A.  P.  HALSKY,  Secretary. 

GORHAM  D.  ABBOTT,  Sec'y  A.  S.  D.  U.  K. 


Harper's  Stereotype  Edition. 


THE 


,NATURAL    HISTORY 


OF 


INSECTS. 


ILLUSTRATED  BY  NUMEROUS  ENGRAVINGS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 


NEW-YORK: 

PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS, 
NO.   82  CLIFF-STREET. 

1837. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I.— THE  HIVE  BEE. 

Page 
0UEEN  BEE— Her  Treatment  by  her  Subjects 25 

CHAPTER  II.— THE  HIVE  BEE. 

Mode  of  Communication  among  Bees— Antipathy  between  rival 
Queens  -Their  Combats— Helplessness  when  mutilated— Senses 
of  Bees— Manner  of  discovering  Bees'  Nests  practised  by  Ameri- 
can Honey-hunters 37 

CHAPTER  III.— THE  HIVE  BEE. 

Interior  Arrangements  of  a  Bee-hive — Structure  of  a  Comb — Form 
of  the  Cells— Worker- Bees— Collection  of  Honey— Elaboration 
of  Wax— Bee-bread— Cleanliness  of  Bees 40 

CHAPTER  IV.— THE  HIVE  BEE. 

Fertility  of  Queen  Bee — Swarming — Ventilation  of  the  Hive — 
Irascibility— Duels— Robberies— Defences  of  Bees 69 

CHAPTER  V.— THE  HUMBLE  BEE. 

Builds  her  own  Habitation— Curious  Division  of  Labour— Remark- 
able for  Good-nature  and  Affection  for  her  Young— Ingenuity  in 
overcoming  Difficulties— The  Carpenter-Bee— The  Mason-Bee— 
—The  Upholsterer-Bee 83 

CHAPTER  VI.— THE  COMMON  WASP. 

The  Nest— Construction  and  Materials— Form  of  the  Combs- 
Affection  for  its  Young— Manner  of  feeding  them— Solitary 
Wasps— Hornets 100 


Xll  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  VII. -ANTS, 

Page 

Their  Industry— Affection  for  their  Young— Courage— Their  Anger 
—Unite  in  Myriads  for  War  and  Extermination— The  Fallow 
Ants— The  Sanguine  Ants— Tlte  Legionary  Ants—Attack  other 
Ants,  and  reduce  them  to  Slavery 118 

CHAPTER  Vm.— TERMITES,  OR  WHITE  ANTS. 

Their  Destructiveness— Clear  the  Ground  of  all  dead  vegetable 
Matter — Societies  composed  of  four  sorts  of  Individuals — Eaten 
as  Food  by  the  Indians— Appear  in  countless  Myriads  at  the  end 
of  the  Rainy  Season — Prodigious  Fertility  of  the  Queen — Size, 
Form,  and  interior  Arrangements  of  their  Hills— Marching  Ants  145* 

CHAPTER  IX.— PARASITICAL  INSECTS. 

Gall  Insect — Cochineal  Insect — The  Scarlet  Colour  used  in  Dyeing  161 
CHAPTER  X.— APHIS,  OR  PLANT-LOUSE. 

JEvery  Tree,  every  part  of  a  Tree,  has  its  peculiar  Species — Suck 
vegetable  Juices— Shelter  themselves  from  bad  Weather  in  the 
concave  parts  of  Leaves 176 

CHAPTER  XL 

Gnat— Bug— Flea— Chigoe— Louse— Mites  and  Ticks— Gad-fly. ...  190 
CHAPTER  XII. 

Ichneumon-Fly— Its  Eggs  deposited  in  the  Bodies  of  other  Living 
Insects — Deposites  thirty  or  forty  in  the  Body  of  a  Caterpillar— 
Dragon-Fly— Its  Voracity— Ferocity 208 

CHAPTER  XIII.— THE  ANT-LION. 

Forms  a  funnel-shaped  Excavation  in  the  Sand — Uses  its  Leg  like 
a  Shovel  to  remove  the  Sand — Secures  its  Prey  by  Stratagem — 
Its  Ingenuity  and  Perseverance  in  getting  rid  of  Impediments- 
Spins  a  Cocoon,  and  is  Transformed  into  a  Beautiful  Fly— The 
LION- WORM 21 

CHAPTER  XIV.— THE  SPIDER. 

Its  Spinning  Apparatus— Its  Web— The  Hawk-Spider— The  Gar 
den-Spider— The  Water-Spider— The  Hunting-Spider— Gossa- 
mer-Spider—Fen-Spider— Attachment  of  the  Spider  to  its  Young  228 


CONTENTS  Xlii 

CHAPTER  XV.— CATERPILLARS. 

Page 

Their  Singular  Habits— The  Grub  of  the  domestic  Moth— Fabri- 
cates a  Mantle— Habits  of  the  Field-Moth— Caddis- Worm 250 

CHAPTER  XVI.— SOCIAL  CATERPILLARS. 

Move  in  regular  Files— Form  Nests  lined  with  Silk— The  "  Froces- 
sionary" — The  Leaf-rolling— The  Leaf-bending — Leaf-mining 
Caterpillar 266 

CHAPTER  XVII.— CHRYSALIS,  OR  AURELIA. 

Caterpillar,  when  about  to  Change  into  a  Chrysalis,  fastens  itself  to 
a  Leaf  or  Stem— Spins  a  little  Web— Gets  rid  of  its  old  Case- 
Suspends  itself  by  a  Girth  or  Belt  formed  of  Silk 289 


I.-B 


INTRODUCTION. 


ALL  that  is  cognizable  to  sense  is  reducible  to  two 
classes  of  existences — the  one  passive,  inert,  and 
governed  by  the  general  laws  of  nature  ;  the  other 
active,  combating  and  modifying  these  laws.  The 
first  class  comprehends  inorganic  or  inanimate  ex- 
istence ;  the  second,  animate  or  organic  existence. 
Animate  beings  are  composed  of  organs  which, 
though  varying  in  number,  figure,  and  function,  in 
the  infinite  varieties  of  living  creatures,  may,  ne- 
vertheless, be  classed  under  two  heads  :  1st.  Or- 
gans destined  to  preserve  the  individual.  2d. 
Organs  appropriated  to  the  perpetuation  of  the 
species.  To  the  first  class  belong  the  organs  of 
nutrition,  locomotion,  and  sensation ;  to  the  second, 
the  organs  of  generation.  A  scale  or  gradation  of 
animated  beings  may  therefore  be  established,  on 
the  ground  of  their  possessing  more  or  fewer  of 
these  organs. 

The  simplest  animal  with  which  we  are  ac- 
quainted is  to  be  found  in  water  either  in  a  stagnant 
state  or  impregnated  with  decayed  vegetable  mat- 
ter :  it  is  of  microscopic  minuteness,  a  single 
living  point,  without  any  organ  whatever,  and  called 
Monas.  A  drop  of  putrid  water  contains  myriads 
#£  these  in  motion.  One  degree  higher  in  the 


XVI  INTRODUCTION. 

scale  of  existence  are  the  Polypi — creatures  pos- 
sessing the  form  of  a  vegetable,  with  the  consist- 
ence of  a  jelly.  Their  internal  organization  con- 
sists only  of  a  sac,  the  first  indication  of  a  sto- 
mach. They  have  no  head,  nor  organs  of  sense, 
muscles,  nor  vessels.  Like  plants,  they  perpe- 
tuate their  species  by  buds.  They  live  in  water. 

The  next  class  of  animals,  also  aquatic,  are  of 
a  star-like  form.  Besides  the  mouth  and  stomach 
common  to  them  with  the  polypi,  slight  indications 
of  a  nervous  and  respiratory  system  are  discover- 
able in  their  organization.  None  of  their  move- 
ments seem  connected  with  muscular  action,  though 
their  substance  in  many  instances  is  capable  of 
contraction  and  dilatation.  They  are  multiplied, 
not  only  by  buds  or  gemmae,  but  also  by  eggs, 
where  the  new  individual,  separating  from  the  pa- 
rent, is  thrown  off  by  the  mouth  :  they  live  in  the 
ocean. 

Worms  have  the  organs  of  locomotion  more 
fully  developed,  the  body  of  the  animal  being 
divided  into  rings, — a  faint  approach  to  the  ar- 
ticulation of  the  limbs  in  more  perfect  creatures. 
The  long  intestinal  canal  is  widened  at  one  part,  so 
as  to  give  a  notion  of  the  division  into  stomach  and 
intestine.  They  possess  a  circulatory  system  of 
vein  and  artery,  but  no  heart.  Their  respiratory 
organs  are  of  the  simplest  kind.  They  are  fur- 
nished with  a  long  nervous  cord,  running  from  one 
extremity  of  the  body  to  the  other,  in  the  course 
of  which  nodules  of  nervous  matter  are  placed, 
from  which  little  nerves  are  radiated  to  the  neigh- 


INTRODUCTION.  XVU 

bouring  parts.  The  sexes  are  in  some  united  in 
the  same  individual,  in  others  separate.  They 
multiply  by  eggs. 

The  Molluscs  have  the  organs  of  digestion  and 
circulation  well  developed  ;  a  liver,  stomach,  in- 
testines, a  heart  with  two  chambers,  arteries  and 
veins  circulating  cold  blood  ;  a  nodulated  nervous 
system,  organs  of  touch,  rudiments  of  a  tongue, 
and  something  like  an  organ  of  hearing,  and  a 
respiratory  system.  The  organs  of  locomotion 
are  not  much  developed. 

The  Crustacea,  or  such  animals  as  resemble  the 
lobster,  possess  lateral  appendages  fixed  to  the 
trunk,  which  assist  them  to  move  :  their  structure 
is  similar  to  that  of  the  molluscae  ;  but  they  have, 
in  addition,  a  more  perfect  apparatus  of  the  senses. 

Ascending  in  the  scale  of  beings,  we  next  come  to 

INSECTS. 

The  English  word  insect  is  derived  from  the 
Latin  word  insectum,  which  is  probably  a  corrup- 
tion or  contraction  of  intersectum,  "  cut  between ;" 
and  the  name  as  applied  to  a  class  of  animals,  is 
doubtlessly  suggested  by  the  bodies  of  these  ani- 
mals being  so  made  up  of  distinct  parts  as  to  give 
the  appearance  of  their  being  notched  or  inter- 
sected. 

Insects  have  organs  of  nutrition,  locomotion, 
generation,  and  sensation.  Their  organization  is 
defective  principally  in  the  circulating  and  respi- 
ratory systems.  They  inhabit  the  earth,  the  air, 
or  the  water,  and  move  with  rapidity  in  all  situa- 
B2 


XV111  INTRODUCTION. 

tions.  They  possess  the  five  senses,  and  are  en- 
dowed with  wonderful  instincts.  The  organs  of 
nutrition  and  generation  are  as  perfect  as  those  of 
more  elevated  orders. 

Insects  have  been  called  hexapodes,  from  their 
having  six  feet.  Their  body  is  for  the  most  part 
composed  of  various  joinings  or  articulations. 
These  joinings  are  comprehended  in  the  head,  tho- 
rax or  chest,  abdomen  or  belly. 

The  head  has  a  moveable  junction  or  articula- 
tion with  the  second  division  or  thorax,  in  the 
greater  number  of  insects.  The  mouth,  antennae, 
and  eyes  are  parts  of  the  head. 

Mouth. — All  insects  either  divide  their  food  or 
suck  it.  In  all,  therefore,  the  mouth  is  modelled 
to  answer  one  or  other  of  these  purposes. 

In  those  which  divide  their  food,  the  parts  of 
the  mouth  are,  an  upper  lip,  and  an  under  lip  fixed 
to  a  piece  called  the  chin  ;  between  these  two  there 
are  four  lateral  pieces,  two  on  each  side  ;  the  two 
upper  are  called  mandibles,  the  two  lower  maxillae 
or  jaws.  To  the  two  lower  are  attached  one  or  more 
moveable  adjuncts  called  palpi.  The  under  lip 
has  also  two  appendices,  called  labial  palpi. 

With  the  palpi  the  insect  seems  to  judge  of  the 
quality  of  its  food  ;  which  it  touches  and  examines 
with  these  organs.  The  mandibles  or  upper  jaws 
cut  the  food.  The  lower  jaws  or  maxillae  divide 
and  masticate  it.  The  motion  of  these  parts  is 
horizontal  and  not  vertical,  as  with  us  :  the  upper 
and  under  lips  move  forwards,  backwards,  and  verti- 


INTRODUCTION.  XIX 

cally,  and  their  office  appears  to  be  to  prevent  the 
egress  of  the  food. 

The  mouth  of  those  insects  which  suck  is  elon- 
gated into  a  beak  or  tongue,  or  proboscis. 

This  is  a  tube  attached  to  the  head  of  the  insect. 
In  some,  the  bee  for  instance,  it  is  composed  of  two 
pieces  connected  by  a  joint,  for  if  it  were  constantly 
extended,  it  would  be  too  much  exposed  to  acci- 
dental injuries  :  therefore,  in  its  indolent  state,  it 
is  doubled  up  by  means  of  the  joint ;  and  in  that 
position  lies  secure  under  a  scaly  pent-house.  In 
many  species  of  the  butterfly,  the  proboscis,  when 
not  in  use,  is  coiled  up  like  a  watch  spring.  In 
some  insects,  the  proboscis,  or  tongue,  or  trunk,  is 
shut  up  in  a  sharp-pointed  sheath  ;  which  sheath 
being  of  a  much  firmer  texture  than  the  proboscis 
itself,  as  well  as  sharpened  at  the  point,  pierces  the 
substance  which  contains  the  food,  and  then  opens 
within  the  wound  to  allow  the  enclosed  tube,  through 
which  the  juice  is  extracted,  to  perform  its  office, 

Antenna. — Almost  all  insects  have  two  of  these 
organs.  Their  functions  are  not  distinctly  known : 
in  some  insects  they  are  organs  of  sense,  in  others 
they  exist,  but  are  so  imperfect  as  to  raise  doubts  as 
to  their  utility  ;  nature,  however,  often  repeats  the 
shape  of  a  part  without  repeat.ing  its  function; 
thus  the  mammae  are  allotted  to  males  as  well  as 
females :  hence  the  non-existence  of  the  function 
in  some  animals  cannot  be  taken  as  a  positive 
ground  for  denying  the  existence  of  that  function 
b  similar  organs  in  other  animals. 


XX  INTRODUCTION. 


s.  —These  organs  are  constantly  found  in  trie 
Jhead  of  insects.  Their  usual  number  is  two, 
placed  laterally  ;  their  surface  is  cut  into  so  many 
facets  that  Leeuwenhoek  has  counted  seventeen 
thousand  two  hundred  and  thirty-five  in  the  cornea 
,of  a  butterfly  ;  each  facet  may  be  considered  as  a 
crystalline  lens,  concave  within  and  convex  without  : 
they  have  no  lids.  In  some  orders  of  insects,  be- 
sides these  two  lateral  eyes,  there  are,  for  the  most 
part,  three  others  placed  between  the  antennge  ; 
their  surface  is  smooth,  they  are  called  stemmata, 
their  use  is  unknown,  although  it  is  supposed  they 
assist  in  vision,  since  the  eyes  of  spiders  are  nearly 
of  the  same  form,  and  in  them  these  are  the  sole 
organs  of  that  faculty. 

The  Thorax.  —  The  next  division  of  the  body 
of  the  insect,  placed  immediately  behind  the  head, 
is  the  thorax  ;  this  supports  the  members,  namely 
the  wings  and  legs.  The  wings  are  composed  of 
two  membranes,  an  upper  one,  in  which  nervures 
or  cords  are  traced  ;  a  lower  one,  separable  from 
the  upper.  These  nervures  or  cords  contain  a  spi- 
ral vessel  ;  "  whence  they  appear,"  says  Kirby,  "  to 
be  air  vessels  communicating  with  the  trachea  in 
the  trunk.  The  expansion  of  the  wing  at  the 
will  of  the  insect  is  a  problem  .that  can  only  be 
solved,  by  supposing  that  a  subtle  fluid  is  intro- 
duced into  these  vessels,  which  seems  perfectly 
analogous  to  those  in  the  wings  of  birds  ;  and  that 
thus  an  impulse  is  communicated  to  eveiy  part  of 
fthe  organ  sufficient  to  keep  it  in  proper  tension: 


INTRODUCTION.  XXI 

we  see  by  this,  that  a  wing  is  supported  in  its 
flight  like  a  sail  by  its  cordage." 

The  Abdomen. — This  is  the  third  division  of 
the  insect ;  it  is  composed  of  riigs,  which  vary  in 
number  from  one  to  fifteen :  most  of  these  rings 
have  an  open  pore  placed  laterally  ;  these  are  the 
breathing  holes  through  which  the  fluids  of  the 
animal  become  aerated  ;  they  are  termed  stigmata. 
In  some,  the  last  ring  contains  the  anus,  or  vent, 
and  the  organs  of  generation ;  in  some,  it  includes 
either  the  means  of  defence  of  the  insect,  such  as 
a  sting,  or  instruments  which  are  subservient  to  its 
instincts,  as  saws,  ovipositors,  pincers,  &c. 

The  Organs  of  Digestion. — These  consist  of  a 
gullet,  one  or  more  stomachs,  and  an  intestinal 
canal,  into  which  numerous  fine  vessels  secrete  a 
fluid  analogous  to  saliva  and  to  bile. 

In  the  higher  animals,  the  steps  by  which  the 
raw  food  is  assimilated  to  the  body  can  be  made 
out.  We  know  that  the  secretions  result  from 
glands  and  minute  arteries,  and  that  absorbents  take 
up  that  which  is  prepared  in  the  great  reservoirs  of 
life,  the  stomach  and  intestines,  to  pour  it  into  the 
veins,  and  thence  into  the  heart.  The  circle  is 
clearly  traceable  by  reasoning  and  by  sense ;  but 
insects  have  no  true  circulating  nor  absorbent  sys- 
tem ;  and  yet  they  secrete  fluids  which  not  only 
serve  for  digestion,  but  for  defence.  The  ant  dis- 
gorges an  acid ;  the  bee  elaborates  a  poison ;  the 
glow-worm  an  unctuous  fluid,  which,  becoming 


XX11  INTRODUCTION. 

luminous,  attracts  the  male.  What  then  are  the 
instruments  by  which  food  is  assimilated  in  the 
insect  ?  Cuvier  supposes  that  it  is  taken  up  by  the 
pores  of  the  bo<Jy  as  water  by  a  sponge,  by  imbi- 
bition. 

The  muscles  of  insects  are  disposed  in  bundles, 
the  fibres  of  which  are  not  connected  together  by  a 
cellular  membrane  ;  they  are  fixed  to  the  hard 
parts,  which  are  to  be  moved  by  horny  tendons. 
The  body  of  the  insect  being  symmetrical,  the 
arrangement  of  muscles  is  simple.  The  segments 
of  the  abdomen  have  similar  muscles,  and  one  side 
corresponds  to  the  other. 

The  thorax  contains  the  muscles  which  move 
the  head  up  or  down  ;  those  which  move  the  wings 
and  the  feet,  and  some  others  of  which  the  uses 
are  only  guessed  at.  The  muscles  of  a  species 
of  caterpillar,  the  cossus  ligniperda,  have  been 
reckoned,  by  Lyonnet,  to  amount  to  four  thousand 
— this  makes  them  nine  times  more  than  those  of 
man.  The  prodigious  power  of  some  of  these 
living  atoms  is  scarcely  imaginable.  The  flea, 
called  by  the  Arabians  "the  father  of  leapers," 
and  the  locust,  jump  two  hundred  times  their  own 
length.  Supposing  the  same  relative  force  to  be 
infused  into  the  body  of  a  man  six  feet  high,  he 
would  be  enabled  to  leap  three  times  the  height  of 
St.  Paul's.  Insects  walk,  run,  leap,  fly,  glide,  and 
swim ;  thus  combining  all  the  movements  of  all 
animated  beings. 

All  insects  have  a  knotted  nervous  system.  The 
knot  nearest  the  head  is  composed  of  two  lobes. 


INTRODUCTION.  XXUl 

from  which  nerves  pass  to  the  eyes,  the  antennae, 
and  the  mouth. 

The  situation  of  the  organs  of  smell  and  hearing 
has  not  been  determined ;  that  they  possess  this 
sense  is  a  matter  of  inference  from  the  various 
facts  offered  in  the  study  of  their  habits. 

The  most  remarkable  circumstance  in  the  history 
of  insects  is  their  metamorphosis.  The  changes 
which  they  undergo  fixed  the  attention  of  the 
earliest  observers :  they  exist  in  four  progressive 
forms  : — 1.  The  egg ;  2.  Larva,  grub,  worm,  or 
caterpillar ;  3.  Chrysalis,  aurelia,  nymph,  or  pupa ; 
4.  Imago,  or  perfect  state. 

The  eggs  vary  in  colour,  shape,  consistence, 
and  the  covering  with  which  many  are  clothed. 
Some  insects  deposite  them  in  places  where  the 
natural  food  of  the  tribe  is  most  abundant ;  and 
without  ever  having  seen  their  parent,  the  instincts 
of  the  young  teach  them  to  act  as  they  had  been 
acted  by ;  others  protect  the  egg  till  the  larva  is 
produced.  In  the  flesh-fly  the  first  stage  of  the 
metamorphosis  passes  within  the  body  of  the 
parent,  and  the  larva,  or  worm,  is  brought  forth 
alive.  In  some  insects  the  parent  retains  the  young 
within  the  body,  some  time  after  it  has  been  evolved 
from  the  egg,  and  then  gives  birth  to  the  pupa. 
Other  insects  produce  their  young  in  a  perfect 
state,  so  as  to  require  no  farther  changes. 

In  the  larva  state  the  insect  appears  to  attain  its 
greatest  weight.  In  this  it  moults,  or  changes  its 
skins  several  times,  and  the  same  colours  are  not 


XXIV  INTRODUCTION. 

always  reproduced :  in  this  state  the  insect  is  inca- 
pable of  producing  its  kind. 

In  the  state  of  pupa,  nymph,  or  chrysalis,  the 
insect  is  ordinarily  incapable  of  taking  food,  and 
contains  within  itself  a  sketch  of  its  ultimate  form. 

Naturalists  have  described  various  states  of 
metamorphosis ;  all  these,  however,  may  be  reduced 
to  two :  1.  Partial  metamorphosis,  in  which  the 
insect  does  not  vary  in  its  form  in  such  a  way  as 
not  to  be  recognised  in  all  its  states  as  the  same 
individual.  2.  Complete  metamorphosis ;  in  which 
the  pupae  take  no  food,  are  incapable  of  motion, 
and  the  change  is  such,  that  nothing  but  the  evi- 
dence of  sense  could  convince  us  of  the  identity  of 
the  insect  in  its  first  and  its  last  state. 


INSECTS, 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE    HIVE   BEE. 
Queen  Bee— Her  Treatment  6y  her  Subjects. 

THE  scene  presented  by  the  interior  of  a  bee-hive 
has  seldom  failed  to  interest  even  the  most  incurious 
observer,  while  it  fills  with  astonishment  the  mind 
of  the  enlightened  and  profound  philosopher.  When 
the  day  is  fine  and  the  sun  shining  brightly,  the  ha- 
bitation of  these  marvellous  little  creatures  exhi- 
bits the  aspect  of  a  populous  and  busy  city.  The 
gates  are  crowded  with  hundreds  of  industrious 
workers — some  on  the  wing  in  search  of  suste- 
nance ;  others  returning  from  the  fields  laden  with 
food — some  earnestly  engaged  in  building — some 
in  tending  the  young — others  employed  in  cleansing 
their  habitation — while  four  or  five  may  be  seen 
dragging  out  the  corpse  of  a  companion,  and,  as  it 
would  appear,  scrupulously  paying  the  last  honours 
to  the  dead.  At  one  moment  the  entrances  of  the 
little  city  are  comparatively  free ;  at  another, 
crowds  of  its  inhabitants  may  be  seen  struggling  at 
the  gates,  making  the  best  of  their  way  to  escape 
from  the  rain,  which,  by  some  peculiar  sensation, 
they  have  discovered  to  be  at  hand.  It  can  there- 
fore excite  no  wonder  that  the  habits  of  these  in- 
teresting insects  should  have  attracted  the  attention 
of  some  of  the  best  observers  of  ancient  uud  of 
C 


26 


NATURAL    HISTORY. 


[CH.  I. 

modern  times.  History  does  not  inform  us  who 
first  drew  these  creatures  from  the  wilderness,  and 
rendered  their  industry  subservient  to  the  purposes 
of  man — purposes  for  which  the  cultivation  of  the 
sugar-cane  now  partially  provides.  According  to 
Cicero  and  Pliny,  the  philosopher  Hyliscus  quitted 
human  society,  and  retired  to  the  desert  in  order  to 
contemplate  the  more  peaceful  industry  of  the  bee. 
The  thousand  moral  qualities  which  have  been 
gravely  attributed  to  them  will  probably  excite  a 
smile.  They  who  wished  to  observe  their  habits 
and  proceedings,  were  admonished  first  to  examine 
their  consciences — for  it  is  said  that  these  beings 
could  not  endure  the  presence  of  the  adulterer,  and 
gave  no  quarter  to  the  thief.  But  putting  aside  fa- 
bles, emanating  from  the  imagination  of  the  an- 
cients, the  real  history  of  the  bee  is  abundantly  in- 
teresting. 


T 


A  community  or  swarm  of  bees  consists,  first,  of 
workers  (fig.  2) ;  these  are  of  no  sex ;  amount  ge- 
nerally to  many  thousands  in  number,  and  are  easily 


CH.  I.]  THE    HIVE    BEE.  27 

recognised  by  their  industry,  and  by  the  smallness 
of  their  size  :  2dly,  of  males  (fig.  3) ;  of  which  se- 
veral hundreds  belong  to  each  community ;  these 
are  larger  than  the  working  bee,  and  live  idly :  over 
all  presides  a  queen,  the  most  important  member 
of  the  whole  of  this  little  commonwealth  (fig.  1). 
A  person  may  keep  hives  for  years,  and  never  see 
this  insect,  about  which  more  extraordinary  things 
have  been  seen  and  written,  than  the  reader  would 
be  disposed  to  believe.  Aristotle  and  the  more  an- 
cient naturalists  have  given  very  marvellous  ac- 
counts of  the  perfect  despotism  and  strict  discipline 
established  among  these  insects,  as  well  as  of  the 
consummate  wisdom  with  which  every  thing  is 
ordered  for  the  common  good. 

Reaumur  and  Huber  have  fully  determined  the 
influence  which  the  presence  of  the  queen  has  upon 
her  subjects.  The  former  divided  a  swarm,  and 
placed  them  in  two  glass  hives,  one  of  which, 
therefore,  had  a  queen ;  the  other  being  without 
one.  The  account  which  he  gives  of  the  conduct 
of  these  two  sets  of  insects  is  too  curious  to  be 
omitted. 

"  After  the  tumult,  excited  by  their  removal  into 
a  little  glass  hive,  was  calmed,  and  I  had  looked 
at  it  for  ten  minutes,  for  the  first  time  of  my  life,  I 
succeeded  in  seeing  a  queen  bee,  which  was  walking 
at  the  bottom  of  the  case.  I  was  recompensed  in 
this  instance,  for  my  disappointments  in  the  various 
attempts  that  I  had  previously  made — for  now  I 
could  view  her  as  often  as  I  wished.  Indeed,  I  had 
it  in  my  power  to  point  her  out  to  a  large  party 
who  were  at  my  house,  not  one  of  whom  but 
evinced  the  greatest  curiosity  to  see  this  renowned 
sovereign. 

"  For  the  first  few  minutes,  in  which  I  followed 
her  with  my  eyes,  I  was  tempted  to  believe  that  the 
stories  of  the  respect  paid  her  by  the  other  bees, 
the  train  by  which  she  was  attended,  were  imagi- 


28  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [cH.  I. 

nary  fables  rather  than  real  facts.  She  was  alone, 
and  walking  perhaps  at  a  slower  pace  than  the  rest. 
The  friends  who  were  with  me  were  pleased  to  dis- 
cover in  her  gait  something  of  gravity  and  majesty. 
She  advanced,  unattended,  to  one  of  the  sqviares  of 
the  hive,  up  which  she  mounted  to  join  a  group  of 
her  subjects  perched  at  the  top.  In  a  little  time 
she  reappeared  at  the  bottom,  but  still  sadly  ne- 
glected. She  ascended  a  second  time,  and  I  lost 
sight  of  her  for  a  few  instants — she  then  appeared 
for  the  third  time  at  the  bottom  of  the  hi\;e.  Now, 
however,  twelve  or  fifteen  bees  were  ranged  around 
her,  and  seemed  to  form  her  train.  In  the  first 
moments  of  trouble  and  confusion  we  think  only 
of  ourselves.  If  we  were  in  a  large  saloon,  and 
it  had  suddenly  broken  down,  in  the  confusion  we 
should  forget  that  others  dearer  than  ourselves 
\vere  in  the  room.  Thus  it  was  with  these  bees, 
for  being  huddled  into  the  little  glass  hive,  turned 
topsy-turvy,  the  first  impulse  of  each  seemed  self- 
preservation,  and  it  was  only  when  they  had  reco- 
vered their  composure,  that  they  began  to  recollect 
the  mother  which  in  their  fright  they  had  forgotten 
and  neglected. 

"  In  spite  of  my  inclination  to  believe  that  the  first 
train  which  I  had  perceived  was  the  effect  of  chance 
— in  spite  of  my  disposition  to  think  that  a  big  bee 
would  be  followed  precisely  because  it  was  big — 1 
was  forced  to  acknowledge  that  there  was  some 
other  foundation  for  the  homage,  the  cares,  and  at- 
tentions which  the  rest  paid  to  her  who  was  des- 
tined to  be  the  mother  of  a  numerous  progeny.  The 
queen,  with  her  little  suite,  disappeared  for  a  mo- 
ment among  a  cluster  of  bees.  In  a  short  time  she 
reappeared  at  the  bottom  of  the  hive,  when  a  dozen 
others  hastened  to  join  the  train.  A  row  flanked 
her  on  each  side  as  she  walked,  others  met  her  be- 
fore, and  made  way  as  she  advanced ;  and,  in  a  very 
short  time,  she  was  surrounded  by  a  circle  of  up- 


CH.  I.]  THE  HIVE  BEE.  29 

wards  of  thirty  bees.  Some  of  these,  approaching 
nearer  than  others,  licked  her  with  their  trunks0; 
others  extended  this  organ  filled  witli  honey  for  her 
to  sip :  sometimes  I  saw  her  stop  to  partake  of  the 
food ;  at  other  times  she  sucked  while  in  motion. 

"For  several  hours,  consecutively,  I  observed 
this  insect,  and  always  saw  her  surrounded  by  bees 
who  appeared  anxious  to  render  her  good  offices." 

The  farther  detail  of  the  "  History  of  the  Divided 
Swarm"  is  equally  instructive.  It  should  be  ob- 
served, that  the  little  glass  hive  in  which  was  placed 
the  mother,  or  queen,  contained  only  about  a  fifth 
part  of  the  original  swarm,  which  had  been  divided 
on  a  Saturday.  On  the  Sunday,  the  bees  seemed 
discouraged,  went  out  into  the  fields,  and  came  back, 
bringing  with  them  very  little  material.  On  the 
Monday,  they  laboured  rather  more  assiduously,  as, 
in  six  hours,  they  had  formed  a  little  comb  contain- 
ing sixteen  or  eighteen  cells ;  but  at  two  o'clock  of 
the  same  day  they  quitted  the  hive.  Reaumur, 
however,  once  more  enclosed  them  in  it.  On  the 
Tuesday,  they  remained  profoundly  still;  and  al- 
though the  sun  was  warm,  and  the  time  of  the  day 
(about  eleven)  that  at  which  the  hive  presents  the 
busiest  scene,  they  were  resting  in  groups.  All  this 
seemed  to  prove  that  they  were  not  content  with 
their  lodging.  They  had  a  queen,  and  the  materials 
for  building,  and  yet  not  a  cell  was  constructed.  In 
a  few  moments,  while  Reaumur  was  pondering  on 
the  motives  of  these  insects,  or  rather  on  the  ob- 
stacles which  contravened  their  instincts — the  queen 
was  seen  on  the  floor  of  the  hive ;  a  dozen  common 
bees  instantly  came  buzzing  around  her,  the  hum 
increased,  and  the  whole  hive  appeared  shortly  in  a 
state  of  great  agitation.  Little  divisions  were 
formed,  one  or  two  workers  going  out,  were  fol- 
lowed by  the  queen,  and  then  the  whole  left  the 
glass  hive  for  the  second  time. 

According  to  their  usual  custom,  they  flew  round 
C2 


30  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [cH.  I 

and  round  in  circles,  and  at  last  settled  in  a  solid 
mass  on  one  of  the  branches  of  a  neighbouring 
tree.  As  soon  as  Reaumur  saw  this,  he  ran  to  dis- 
cover the  queen,  and  found  her,  not  in  this  mass, 
but  quietly  seated  on  a  leaf,  and  at  a  little  distance 
from  it,  "  apparently,"  says  he,  "  as  if  aware  that  it 
would  be  inconvenient  to  bear  the  whole  weight  of 
her  subjects."  It  would  seem  that  she  had  but  to 
indicate  the  spot  near  which  the  bees  were  to  settle, 
by  hovering  round  it,  in  order  to  bring  them  thither. 
As  soon  as  the  cluster  which  had  settled  on  the 
branch  had  become  of  considerable  size,  she  quitted 
the  leaf  on  which  she  had  settled,  and  joined  them. 
This  was  sufficient  to  attract  the  others,  which  were 
stiil  circling  about  in  the  air,  and  she  was  soon  co- 
vered and  concealed  by  them. 

*'  These  bees,"  says  Reaumur,  "  seemed  to  have 
good  reasons  for  quitting  the  hive.  Instinct,  no 
doubt,  taught  them  that  their  present  habitation  was 
too  small  to  accommodate  the  numerous  progeny  of 
the  queen,  and  afford  room  for  the  necessary  cells." 

Thinking  that  the  disproportion  between  the  num- 
ber of  the  bees  and  the  size  of  the  hive  might  have 
been  the  cause  of  their  disgust,  Reaumur  this  time 
contrived  to  enclose  only  four  or  five  hundred  along 
with  the  queen.  But  this  step  proved  unfortunate. 
The  little  colony  remained  in  the  greatest  agitation, 
and  altogether  neglected  the  queen,  who  wandered 
up  and  down  quite  unattended  and  in  the  most  deso- 
late condition.  The  rest,  however,  who  had  not 
been  enclosed  with  the  queen,  did  not  imitate  the 
example  of  her  fellow-captives,  but  soon  found  her 
out ;  and,  not  being  able  to  obtain  admission,  covered 
the  hive  in  a  mass.  Having  got  rid  of  these,  he 
was  desirous  of  trying  whether  those  bees  which, 
three  days  before,  on  the  original  division  of  the 
swarm,  had  been  separated  from  the  queen,  would 
recognise  her  after  this  lapse  of  time.  Having 
placed  the  little  glass  hive  near  the  box  in  which 


CH.  I.J  THE  HIVE  BEE.  31 

these  had  been  enclosed,  in  less  than  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  they  seemed  to  have  discovered  that  a  queen 
was  in  captivity,  and  scarcely  a  single  bee  remained 
in  the  box,  but  all  came  and  covered  the  glass  hive. 
At  first  Reaumur  attributed  this  effect  to  the  attrac- 
tion of  the  constant  noise  kept  up  by  the  agitation 
of  the  bees  within  the  glass  hive ;  but  when  this 
hive  was  placed,  under  the  same  circumstances, 
near  another  which  possessed  a  queen,  very  few  of 
the  workers  of  the  latter  hive  seemed  disposed  to 
quit  their  own  habitation  and  sovereign  in  order  to 
attend  the  stranger,  however  hard  her  lot.  It  would 
appear,  then,  that  the  bees  who  were  without  a 
queen  knew  where  there  was  one ;  but  those  who 
possessed  one  paid  no  regard  to  another.  Having 
kept  the  queen  and  her  five  hundred  subjects  pri- 
soners, Reaumur  opened  the  entrances  of  the  glass 
hive ;  upon  which  most  of  them  went  into  the  fields, 
but  returned,  bringing  with  them  some  of  the  other 
bees  which  had  been  excluded  when  the  five  hun- 
dred were  enclosed  with  the  queen.  How  these 
creatures  had  found  out  their  queen  excited  Reau- 
mur's wonder.  Observing  his  glass  hive  becoming 
too  full,  he  contrived  to  make  the  mass  of  supernu- 
meraries join  another  set. 

On  the  Wednesday,  however,  the  bees  left  the 
glass  hive  for  the  third  time,  but  after  a  short  space 
returned ;  which  encouraged  him  to  hope  that  they 
would  permanently  adhere  to  it.  The  next  day  the 
workers  laboured  in  good  earnest,  brought  home 
good  loads  of  materials  on  their  thighs,  and  con- 
structed cells.  But  the  situation  of  the  hive  being 
too  hot,  they  quitted  it  for  the  fourth  time,  fled  to  a 
large  hive  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  were  massacred 
by  its  inhabitants. 

Such  was  the  end  of  this  division  of  the  original 
swarm.  That  of  the  other  was  not  less  tragical. 
It  has  been  already  observed,  that  when  Reaumm 


32  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  I. 

divided  the  swarm,  the  largest  portion  was  without 
a  queen — these  he  placed  in  a  flat  and  commodious 
habitation,  giving  them  the  means  of  free  egress  and 
ingress.  The  number  of  those  who  went  into  the 
fields  was  very  limited,  and  these  returned  unladen 
with  any  of  the  fruits  of  their  labour. 

Although  the  days  were  fine,  the  number  of  the 
workers  very  great,  the  hive  such  as  they  liked,  for 
they  evinced  no  symptom  of  a  wish  to  quit  it,  still 
not  a  cell  was  made,  while,  during  the  same  space 
of  time,  the  bees  of  the  little  glass  hive,  although 
they  had  but  a  slender  portion  of  labourers,  con- 
trived to  make  two  little  combs.  Thus  it  would  ap- 
pear that  all  their  instincts  hinge  on  the  love  of 
offspring.  Those  bees  which  possessed  a  queen, 
capable  of  giving  birth  to  thousands  of  young,  pre- 
pared cells  for  their  dwelling,  and  honey  for  their 
food ;  and  this  they  effected  under  every  disadvan- 
tage. Those,  on  the  contrary,  which  were  without 
a  mother-bee,  and,  therefore,  without  the  hope  of  a 
numerous  progeny,  were  content  to  live  from  day  to 
day.  They  went  into  the  fields  for  their  repast,  but 
did  not  bring  back  materials  which  would  construct 
a  single  cell.  It  seemed  as  if  they  were  content 
with  feeding  themselves,  and  had  lost  all  motive  to 
lay  up  a  store  of  provisions  for  future  purposes.  In 
a  word,  it  was  evident  that  it  was  not  for  themselves 
that  they  gathered  or  laboured. 

Wishing  to  stimulate  them  to  exertion,  Reaumur 
gave  them  another  hive,  but  they  were  as  tranquil 
in  their  new  as  they  had  been  in  their  old  habitation. 

Their  number  daily  diminished,  so  that  at  the  end 
of  three  weeks  scarcely  a  thousand  remained,  and 
the  whole  of  these  were  one  morning  found  dead  at 
the  bottom  of  the  hive. 

This  was  not  a  solitary  experiment.  Reaumur 
and  others  have  repeated  it  too  often  to  require  far- 
ther proof — that  the  loss  of  the  mother-bee  destroys 


CH.  I.J  THE  HIVE  BEE.  33 

all  motive  to  exertion,  so  that  she  may  truly  be 
called  the  soul  of  the  hive. 

"  We  are  only  sure  of  one  principle  of  action," 
says  Reaumur,  "  among-  bees — the  love  for  their 
queen,  or  rather  the  numerous  posterity  to  which 
she  is  to  give  birth.  Each  bee  seems  to  be  actuated 
either  by  a  sensation  which  has  in  view  the  welfare 
of  all,  or  by  the  love  of  posterity.  Whether  they 
construct  cells  or  most  carefully  polish  them,  or  la- 
bour to  gather  a  harvest  of  honey,  it  is  never  directly 
for  themselves.  This  may  appear  somewhat  para- 
doxical to  those  who  have  remarked  that,  at  the  end 
of  winter,  the  bees  consume  the  honey  they  had  stored 
up  in  spring  and  summer.  But  the  experiments  j  list 
detailed  show,  that  the  moment  they  lose  the  hope 
of  a  numerous  progeny,  they  cease  to  gather  the 
food  which  is  necessary  for  their  own  preservation ; 
life  seems  to  them  of  no  value  when  unsupported 
by  this  hope,  and  so  they  choose  to  die.  The  love 
of  offspring  appears,  therefore,  to  be  the  all-moving 
principle."  Swammerdam  was  of  this  opinion;  and 
all  who  study  the  habits  of  the  bee  attentively  must 
coincide  with  him. 

From  what  has  been  detailed,  little  doubt  can  be 
entertained  that,  be  the  moving  spring  what  it  may, 
the  conduct  of  bees  to  the  mother  is  tender,  true, 
and  full  of  devotion.  To  ascertain  whether  this 
feeling  of  attachment  and  devotion  was  confined  to 
the  particular  queen  which  gave  them  birth,  Reau- 
mur made  an  experiment. 

He  shut  up  a  queen  taken  from  one  hive,  with  some 
workers  taken  from  another,  so  that  both  were 
strangers  to  each  other.  "  I  was  curious,"  he  says, 
"  to  note  how  she  would  be  received,  and  I  saw  she 
was  received  like  '  a  queen.'  Bees  to  the  number 
of  a  dozen  or  more  surrounded  her,  and  treated  her 
with  great  honour.  It  happened  that  the  box  in 
which  she  had  been  enclosed  was  filled  with  dust, 
in  consequence  of  which,  when  introduced  among  the 


34  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  I. 

workers,  she  was  literally  gray  with  that  which  stuck 
about  her.  The  first  care  of  the  bees  was  to  unpow- 
der  and  clean  their  future  sovereign.  For  more  than 
two  hours  she  remained  at  the  bottom  of  the  hive, 
surrounded  and  sometimes  covered  by  them,  while 
they  licked  her  on  all  sides.  It  seemed  as  if  they 
were  anxious  to  warm  her,  and  in  truth  she  re- 
quired it,  as  she  was  benumbed  by  the  coldness  of 
the  night,  and  had  only  been  revived  by  me  in  the 
morning  with  artificial  heat.  I  could  not  help  ad- 
miring the  anxiety  and  assiduity  of  their  attentions. 
They  relieved  each  other  in  the  task  of  cleaning  her. 
They  removed  her  to  another  spot  more  than  an  inch 
distant;  some  were  upon,  some  under  her.  For 
more  than  two  hours  I  witnessed  this  interesting 
scene." 

For  a  day  or  two,  Reaumur  kept  them  close  pri- 
soners ;  but  subsequently  placed  them  near  the  very 
spot  from  which  they  had  been  taken,  and  gave  them 
the  liberty  of  egress.  He  found,  however,  that, 
though  they  went  out,  they  returned  to  their  new 
habitation  and  new  queen,  and  constructed  cells  for 
her  accommodation. 

This  fact  removed  Reaumur's  doubt.  These  bees 
had  been  taken  from  a  populous  hive  well  stored, 
and  ye"  t  they  completely  forgot  their  old  companions 
and  their  birth-place,  put  up  with  all  the  inconve- 
niences of  a  small  hive,  and  undertook  to  labour  for 
a  stranger. 

But  although  thus  prodigal  of  their  affections  to 
any  mother,  still  a  certain  number  of  hours  must 
elapse  before  they  will  adopt  a  stranger ;  and  then  the 
lives  of  a  thousand  of  their  fellow-labourers  are  no- 
thing to  them  in  comparison  with  that  of  the  elected 
queen. 

Reaumur  found  a  queen  and  some  workers  appa- 
parently  dead  from  cold.  Some  of  the  latter  he  had 
resuscitated,  so  that,  though  feeble,  yet  they  could 
walk.  The  others  with  the  queen  were  still  motion- 


CH.  I.J  THE  HIVE  BEE.  35 

less.  Putting  them  all  into  a  box,  he  gradually 
warmed  it  in  the  hope  of  reviving  the  whole. 

As  soon  as  some  of  the  workers  came  to  life,  they 
ranged  themselves  round  the  dead  mother  as  if  com- 
passionating her  situation.  With  their  trunks  they 
licked  her  breast,  head,  and  body,  but  took  not  the 
slightest  notice  of  the  other  bees,  although  as  dead 
as  this  sole  object  of  their  care. 

Reaumur  watched  with  anxiety  for  the  signs  of 
returning  life  in  the  queen.  "At  first,"  says  he, 
"  one  limb  quivered,  and  after  a  short  interval,  the 
motion  was  reiterated.  No  sooner  was  this  evidence 
of  life  given,  than  a  humming  was  instantly  heard 
in  the  box  where  previously  all  had  been  silence. 
Many  persons  who  were  with  me,  and  who  watched 
the  revival  of  the  queen,  were  struck  with  the  sound 
as  being  more  acute  than  usual,  and  all  named  it  the 
song  of  rejoicing."* 

It  appears,  however,  that  the  workers  do  not  at  all 
times  pay  the  same  attention  to  their  queen ;  while 
she  continues  in  a  state  of  infecundity,  she  seems 
for  the  most  part  an  object  of  indifference  to  them ; 
but  as  soon  as  this  event  has  taken  place,  she  is 
treated  with  the  honour  due  to  the  future  mother  of 
a  populous  colon)'. 

"  I  have,"  says  Huber,  "  seen  workers  bestow 
every  attention  on  a  queen,  though  sterile ;  and  after 
her  (death  treat  the  dead  body  as  they  had  treated 
herself  when  alive,  and  long  prefer  it,  though  inani- 
mate, to  the  most  prolific  queens  I  offered  them." 

*  When  Schirach  had  once  smoked  a  hive  to  oblige  the  bees  to  retire 
to  the  top  of  it,  the  queen  with  some  of  the  rest  flew  away.  Upon  this, 
those  that  remained  in  the  hive  sent  forth  a  most  plaintive  sound,  as  if 
they  were  deploring  their  loss :  when  their  sovereign  was  restored,  their 
lugubrious  sounds  were  succeeded  by  a  a  agreeable  humming,  which 
announced  their  joy  at  the  event.  Htibersays,  that  once  when  all  the 
worker  brood  was  removed  from  the  hive,  and  only  male  brood  left,  the 
bees  appeared  in  a  state  of  extreme  despondency.  Assembled  in  clusters 
on  the  combs,  they  lost  all  their  activity.  The  queen  dropped  her  eggs 
at  random,  and  instead  of  the  usual  active  hum,  a  dead  silence  reigned 
in  the  hive. 


36  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [cH.  I. 

It  would  perhaps  be  incorrect  to  ascribe  this  con- 
duct to  motives  similar  to  those  which  influence  hu- 
man agents.  And  yet  it  is  difficult,  if  not  impossi- 
ble, to  resist  the  impression,  that  although  not  exactly 
similar,  they  are  at  least  analogous.  These  humble 
creatures  cherish  their  queen,  feed  her,  and  provide 
for  her  wants.  They  live  only  in  her  life,  and  die 
when  she  is  taken  away.  Her  absence  deprives 
them  of  no  organ,  paralyzes  no  limb,  yet  in  every 
case  they  neglect  all  their  duties  for  twenty-four 
hours.  They  receive  no  stranger  queen  before  the  ex- 
piration of  that  time  ;  and  if  deprived  of  the  cherished 
object  altogether,  they  refuse  food,  and  quickly  pe- 
rish. What,  it  may  be  asked,  is  the  physical  cause 
of  such  devotion  I  What  are  the  bonds  that  chain 
the  little  creature  to  its  cell,  and  force  it  to  prefer 
death,  to  the  flowers  and  the  sunshine  that  invite  it 
to  come  forth  and  live  ?  This  is  not  a  solitary  in- 
stance in  which  the  Almighty  has  made  virtues  ap- 
parently almost  unattainable  by  us,  natural  to  ani- 
mals !  For  while  man  has  marked,  with  that  praise 
which  great  and  rare  good  actions  merit,  those  few 
instances  in  which  one  human  being  has  given  up 
his  own  life  for  another — the  dog,  who  daily  sacri- 
fices himself  for  his  master,  has  scarcely  found  an 
historian  to  record  his  common  virtue. 


CH.  TI.*|  THE  HIVE  BEE  37 


CHAPTER    II. 


THE    HIVE    BEE. 

Mode  of  Communication  among  Bees— Antipathy  between  rival  Queens 
— Their  Combats — Helplessness  when  mutilated — Senses  of  Bees — 
Manner  of  discovering  Bees'  Nests  practised  by  American  Honey- 
hunters. 

LIKE  every  other  animal  living  in  society,  bees  have 
a  medium  of  communication.  The  effects  produced 
upon  them  by  the  loss  of  their  queen  will  furnish 
proof  of  this  fact.  In  a  well-peopled  and  thriving 
hive,  each  bee  is  employed  in  its  appropriate  avoca- 
tion, some  in  attending  the  young,  some  in  making 
cells.  At  first,  when  the  queen  has  been  abstracted, 
every  thing  goes  on  well  for  about  an  hour ;  after 
this  space  of  time,  some  few  of  the  workers  appear 
in  a  state  of  great  agitation ;  they  forsake  the  young, 
relinquish  their  labour,  and  begin  to  traverse  the  hive 
in  a  furious  manner.  In  their  progress,  wherever 
they  meet  a  companion,  they  mutually  cross  their 
antennae,*  and  the  one  which  seems  to  have  first 
discovered  the  national  loss,  communicates  the  sad 
news  to  its  neighbour,  by  giving  it  a  gentle  tap  with 
these  organs.  This  one  in  its  turn  becomes  agitated, 
runs  over  the  cells,  crossing  and  striking  others. 
Thus  in  a  short  time  the  whole  hive  is  thrown  into 
confusion,  every  thing  is  neglected,  and  the  hum- 
ming may  be  heard  at  a  distance.  This  agitation 
lasts  from  four  to  five  hours,  after  which  the  bees 
are  calmed,  and  begin  to  adopt  the  measures  which 
are  necessary  to  repair  their  loss. 

That  the  agitation  of  the  bees  arises  from  the  loss 
of  the  queen  scarcely  admits  of  a  doubt. 

"  I  cannot  doubt,"  says  Huber,  "  that  the  agitation 

*  Feelers. 


S8  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  II. 

arises  from  the  workers  having  lost  their  queen; 
for  on  restoring1  her,  tranquillity  is  instantly  re-esta- 
blished among  them,  and,  what  is  very  singular,  they 
recognise  her.  This  expression  must  be  interpreted 
literally — for  the  substitution  of  another  queen  is  not 
attended  with  the  same  effect,  if  she  be  introduced 
into  the  hive  within  the  first  twenty-four  hours  after 
removal  of  the  reigning  one.  Here  the  agitation 
continues,  and  the  bees  treat  the  stranger  just  as  they 
do  when  the  presence  of  their  own  queen  leaves 
them  nothing  to  desire.  But  if  twenty-four  hours 
have  elapsed  before  substituting  the  stranger  queen, 
she  will  be  well  received,  and  reign  from  the  moment 
of  her  introduction  into  the  hive." 

Huber  introduced  a  fertile  queen,  eleven  months 
old,  into  a  hive  which  had  lost  its  own  twenty-four 
hours  before.  Immediately  on  placing  this  female 
stranger  on  the  comb,  the  workers  which  were  near 
the  spot  touched  her  with  their  antennae,  and  pass- 
ing their  trunks  over  every  part  of  her  body,  gave 
her  honey.  Then  these  gave  place  to  others,  which 
treated  her  exactly  in  the  same  manner.  Vibrating 
their  wings  at  once,  they  all  ranged  themselves  in  a 
circle  around  their  adopted  sovereign ;  hence  resulted 
a  kind  of  agitation,  which  was  gradually  communi- 
cated to  other  workers  situated  on  the  same  surface 
of  the  comb,  and  induced  them  to  come  and  recon- 
noitre, in  their  turn,  what  was  going  on.  These  ar- 
riving, and  breaking  through  the  circle  formed  by 
the  foremost  ranks,  approached  the  queen,  touched 
her  with  their  antennae,  and  gave  her  honey.  After 
this  little  ceremony,  they  retired,  and  placing  them- 
selves behind  the  others,  enlarged  the  circle,  where 
they  vibrated  their  wings  without  tumult  or  disorder. 
When  she  began  to  move,  they  were  so  far  from  op- 
posing her  progress,  that  they  opened  the  circle  at 
that  part  towards  which  she  turned,  followed  her, 
and  surrounded  her  with  a  guard. 

The  treatment  wru'ch  they  bestow  upon  a  stranger 


CH.  II.'I  THE    HIVE    BEE.  O 

queen,  while  their  own  is  still  in  the  hive,  deserves 
to  be  mentioned.  The  entrance  of  their  habitation 
is  carefully  guarded,  and  sentinels  are  placed,  so 
that  nothing-,  not  even  one  of  their  own  companions, 
can  move  either  by  day  or  by  night,  without  first 
undergoing  a  strict  scrutiny.  As  soon  as  a  stranger 
queen  enters  the  hive,  a  circle  of  bees  imprison  the 
intruder  so  closely,  that  not  only  is  it  impossible  for 
her  to  move,  but  she  is  often  suffocated.  One 
queen,  it  would  seem,  is  alone  required  for  a  hive ; 
nature,  therefore,  among  other  curious  knowledge, 
has  not  failed  to  impart  this  to  the  bees.  As  soon 
as  the  stranger  is  imprisoned,  another  set  of  workers 
go  and  confine  the  original  queen ;  and  for  what 
reason1? — to  force  the  two  to  fight  for  the  throne. 
This  fact  is  corroborated  by  repeated  experiments. 
If  there  be  the  least  disposition  on  the  part  of  either 
to  move  towards  the  other,  the  workers  make  way 
and  allow  them  to  approach :  if,  on  the  contrary, 
they  attempt  to  flee,  the  workers  return  and  pinion 
them  closely.  But  it  is  seldom  necessary  to  stimu- 
late queen  bees  to  combat ;  for  nature  has  taken  care 
to  secure  her  own  ends,  by  inspiring  them  with  the 
most  determined  antipathy  towards  those  of  their 
own  sex  and  grade.  Huber  repeatedly  introduced 
stranger  queens  into  the  hive  already  supplied  with 
a  sovereign,  and  in  every  instance  a  mortal  combat 
ensued. 

The  intervals  between  the  rings  of  the  belly  are 
the  vulnerable  points,  the  rest  of  the  body  being- 
encased  in  armour  impervious  to  the  sting.  As 
soon  as  they  come  within  view  of  each  other,  they 
rush  impetuously  to  the  fight,  endeavour  to  hit  each 
other  at  an  advantage,  dart  out  the  sting  furiously, 
and  the  weapon  may  be  seen  to  glance  off  the 
corslet  and  scales;  at  last  the  strongest  or  the 
most  fortunate  contrives  to  mount  upon  her  enemy, 
or  fix  her  by  the  wing  against  a  comb,  and  curving 
her  body  under  her  antagonist's  belly,  inflicts  a 


40  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [cH.  II. 

wound  which  for  the  most  part  proves  instantane- 
ously mortal.  In  these  combats,  it  sometimes  hap- 
pens that  the  position  of  both  is  such,  that  each  can 
pierce  its  antagonist :  when  their  situation  is  thus 
critical,  both  become  panic-struck,  instantly  disen- 
gage themselves,  and  retreat.  This  happened  so 
invariably,  that  Huber  looks  on  it  as  a  special  in- 
stinct causing  their  separation,  since  by  the  death 
of  both  the  colony  would  be  ruined. 

Whatever  may  be  the  number  of  queens  intro- 
duced into  a  hive,  one  only  is  allowed  to  survive. 
It  was  suspected  that  the  workers  themselves  de- 
spatched them,  but  in  no  instance  does  this  appear 
to  be  the  case.  On  one  occasion,  Huber  wished  to 
release  a  queen  which  was  kept  in  close  confine- 
ment. Upon  this  the  workers  became  so  enraged, 
that  they  stung  indiscriminately,  and  thus  the  queen 
perished ;  but  as  a  proof  that  this  was  accidental, 
he  states,  that  many  of  the  workers  themselves 
were  killed.  That  this  antipathy  of  queens  is  na- 
tural, is  proved  by  the  fact,  that  it  holds  good  even 
against  the  almost  universal  instinct  of  maternal 
feeling.  The  queen  bee  at  certain  seasons,  as  shall 
be  hereafter  explained,  lays  eggs,  which  in  due 
time  are  destined  to  bring  forth  other  queens.  It 
might  be  supposed  that,  in  this  case,  the  feelings  of 
a  mother  would  have  their  full  sway — not  so.  As 
soon  as  her  young  are  about  to  assume  a  shape 
like  her  own,  even  when  they  are  as  yet  in  their 
cradle,  and  incapable  of  self-defence,  she  is  stimu- 
lated to  the  utmost  fury  by  their  presence ;  she 
tears  open  the  cells  which  contain  them,  and,  in- 
serting the  end  of  her  body  in  the  breach  she  has 
made,  inflicts  a  mortal  wound  on  her  own  offspring. 
Whatever  may  be  the  motive  to  such  an  action,  we 
must  regard  it  as  intended  to  answer  other  purposes 
than  gratifying  the  revenge  of  a  poor  insect,  It 
forms  a  part  of  the  economy  of  nature.  It  is  evi- 
dently the  intention  of  the  Author  of  nature  that 


<CH.  II.J  THE    HIVE    BEE.  41 

this  should  take  place,  for  an  especial  provision  ap- 
pears to  be  made  for  such  an  attack  on  the  young 
queens.  The  cocoon*  which  the  royal  grubs  spin 
differs  from  that  spun  by  the  workers'  grubs.  The 
latter  are  closed  in  every  direction,  so  that  the  silk 
coating  would  ward  off  the  sting.  The  former,  on 
the  contrary,  are  left  open  and  uncovered  on  the 
only  part  of  the  body  which  is  vulnerable — the 
lower  rings  of  the  belly. 

Hence  it  appears  that  bees  remember,  recognise, 
and  distinguish— that  they  act  differently  towards 
different  queens ;  that  they  take  measures  to  reduce 
their  hives  to  the  simplest  economy,  by  getting  rid 
of  supernumeraries ;  that  in  order  to  effect  this  they 
do  not  trust  to  that  instinctive  antipathy  of  queens 
to  each  other,  but  seem  to  take  precautions  that  it 
should  be  forced  into  action :  for  it  has  been  ob- 
served, that  they  confine  both  queens  as  soon  as  it 
is  known  that  a  stranger  is  in  the  hive.  If  they 
did  not,  it  is  very  possible  that  a  long  period  might 
elapse  before  the  rivals  should  meet,  and  it  is  cer- 
tain that,  if  fecundated,  the  prodigious  fertility  of 
one  of  these  creatures  would  be  wasted,  since  one 
hive  of  workers  is  not  more  than  adequate  to  pro- 
vide for  the  progeny  of  one  queen. 

Observing  the  effect  of  the  antennae  in  agitating 
bees,  Huber  contrived  a  beautiful  series  of  experi- 
ments to  ascertain  their  uses.  He  divided  a  hive 
into  two  portions  by  the  sudden  introduction  of  a 
grating,  through  which  a  bee  might  hear,  see,  and 
smell,  but  not  touch  its  queen.  .  In  the  course  of  an 
hour  one  of  these  divisions  was  agitated,  and  the 
bees  were  seen  scampering  over  their  cells,  neglect- 
ing their  labours,  and  crossing  their  antennae.  In 
the  other,  they  were  quietly  at  work.  It  was  easy, 
therefore,  to  infer  in  which  half  the  queen  had  been 
included.  In  the  division  which  was  destitute  of  a 
queen,  the  workers,  after  waiting  the  usual  time, 

*  The  ball  made  by  an  insect  while  in  its  grub-state  is  a  cocoon, 

D2 


42  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [CH.  II. 

began  to  construct  royal  cells  for  the  purpose  of  re- 
placing1  their  lost  sovereign. 

Seeing,  then,  that  it  was  not  hy  means  of  the 
sense  of  sight,  hearing,  smelling,  or  of  any  other 
unknown  sense  which  acted  at  a  distance,  that  the 
agitation  of  bees  was  excited,  Huber  so  contrived 
the  grating,  that  the  interstices  were  just  large 
enough  to  admit  the  antennae,  but  not  the  head  of 
the  bee  to  pass  through  them.  On  one  side  of  this 
grating,  a  queen  bee  was  placed  with  a  few  workers, 
who  immediately  paid  her  the  usual  homage,  by 
forming  a  circle  with  their  heads  turned  towards 
her,  offering  her  honey,  and  other  marks  of  atten- 
tion. On  the  other  side  were  the  rest  of  the  swarm. 
In  this  experiment  the  bees  seemed  perfectly  aware 
that  the  queen  was  not  lost ;  there  was  no  neglect 
of  labour,  no  hurry,  but  every  thing  went  on  in  a 
very  orderly  manner. 

"  The  means  of  communicating  with  this  queen," 
says  i,he  same  observer,  "  were  very  singular.  An 
infinite  number  of  antennae  thrust  though  the  grat- 
ing, and  turned  in  all  directions,  plainly  indicated 
that  the  bees  were  occupied  in  searching  for  her. 
She  gave  decisive  proof  that  she  was  aware  of  the 
interest  which  was  taken  in  her  existence,  by  always 
remaining  fixed  on  the  grating,  and  crossing  her 
antennae  with  those  so  evidently  employed  in  ascer- 
taining her  presence.  The  bees  attempted  to  pull 
her  through  to  themselves ;  for  her  legs  were  seized, 
and  firmly  held  by  the  antennae  which  were  passed 
to  the  other  side.  Their  trunks  were  likewise  ob- 
served to  be  introduced  to  the  queen's  division  ;  and, 
while  a  captive,  she  was  fed  by  her  subjects  from 
within  the  hive." 

To  make  out  the  use  of  the  antennae,  Huber  am- 
putated them  altogether ;  this  experiment  produced 
some  remarkable  results.  The  queen,  when  thus 
mutilated,  ran  about  the  combs,  dropped  her  eggs 
any  where  but  in  the  cells ;  could  not  direct  her 


CH.  II. J  THE    HIVE    BEE.  43 

proboscis  aright,  for  if  she  required  honey,  she 
stretched  it  out  at  random,  and  by  chance  only,  to 
the  mouths  of  the  workers.  The  antennae  of  a  se- 
cond queen  -having  been  amputated,  she  was  put 
into  the  same  hive  as  the  first,  and  acted  in  the 
*ame  manner;  she,  too,  ran  about  in  a  delirium, 
retired  to  the  corners  of  the  hive,  and  strove  to  get 
out.  Two  remarkable  things  occurred  in  these  ex- 
periments:— 1st,  the  workers,  though  they  knew 
they  were  queens,  for  they  paid  them  the  honours 
of  a  sovereign,  did  not  know  one  queen  from  an- 
other ;  for,  as  it  has  been  already  stated,  they  im- 
prison a  strange  queen  when  she  enters  a  hive 
already  provided  with  one.  In  this  case  both  queens 
had  their  respective  courts.  2dly,  The  dreadful  anti 
pathy  of  queens  to  each  other  was  annihilated  by 
the  removal  of  the  antennae ;  for  the  two  rivals  often 
met,  but  never  took  the  least  notice  of  each  other. 

When  Huber  put  in  a  third  queen,  whose  antennas 
were  entire,  the  bees  treated  her  immediately  as  a 
stranger,  and  instantly  imprisoned  her. 

These  experiments  throw  some  light  on  the  mode 
in  which  communication  takes  place  between  bees. 
In  the  first  place,  it  is  not  improbable  that  of  them- 
selves they  distinguish  between  a  queen  and  a 
worker,  since  they  pay  homage  to  the  queen.  We 
may  then  conjecture,  that  in  order  to  distinguish 
one  queen  from  another,  some  communication  must 
be  made  by  the  individual  queen  to  her  subjects  that 
she  is  their  sovereign,  since  where  the  antennae 
were  amputated  in  two  queens,  both  were  equally 
well  treated,  while  a  third,  who  had  the  antennae 
entire,  was  instantly  recognised  as  a  stranger. 

One  of  the  mutilated  queens  strove  to  get  out  of 
the  hive,  and  not  the  slightest  attempt  was  made  by 
the  other  bees  to  accompany  her.  Now,  where  the 
antennae  have  not  been  amputated,  the  queen  com- 
municates some  sensation  to  the  workers,  which,  as 
Huber  conjectures,  agitates  them  so  much,  that  the 


44  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [cH.  TL 

heat  of  the  hive  becomes  so  intolerable  as  to  force 
them  to  quit  it.  The  mutilation  of  workers  by  am- 
putation of  the  antennce  produces  similar  effects ; 
it  causes  them  to  neglect  their  labours,  run  into  cor- 
ners, or  to  some  sunny  spot,  and  ultimately  quit  the 
hive  never  to  return.  Hence,  it  would  seem  that 
the  antennae  are  the  organs  of  communication.  As 
a  farther  proof  of  it,  the  sentinels,  in  a  moonlight 
night,  may  be  seen  patrolling  round  their  habitation 
with  these  feelers  stuck  out.  If  some  unhappy 
moth,  slyly  endeavouring  to  steal  into  the  habita- 
tion, happen  to  come  in  contact  with  them,  the  sig- 
nal is  made,  and  a  body  of  guards  soon  rush  out  to 
chastise  the  interloper. 

The  senses  of  smell,  taste,  feeling,  vision,  are 
attributed  to  bees ;  Huber  doubts  that  they  possess 
the  sense  of  hearing;  their  sense  of  sight  is  cer- 
tainly acute  in  an  extraordinary  degree.  If  a  dozen 
hives  be  placed  together,  the  bee,  though  at  a  great 
distance,  first  rises  in  the  air,  and  then,  with  almost 
the  swiftness  of  a  bullet,  proceeds  in  a  straight  line 
to  the  entrance  of  its  own  habitation.  If  the  eyes 
be  varnished  over,  they  rise  up  in  the  air,  or  fly  at 
random. 

This  capacity  of  the  bee  to  make  its  way  directly 
to  its  nest  has  been  made  use  of  as  a  guide.  lii 
New-England,  the  honey-hunters  set  a  plate  of 
honey  or  sugar  upon  the  ground;  and  in  a  short 
time  this  is  discovered  by  the  wild  bees.  Having 
caught  two  or  three  of  those  that  have  taken  their 
fill,  the  hunter  first  releases  one,  which,  rising  into 
the  air,  flies  straight  to  the  nest.  He  now  walks  at 
right  angles  to  the  course  of  the  bee  for  a  few  hun- 
dred yards,  and  then  lets  another  go,  which  also, 
after  rising,  flies  to  the  nest.  Observing,  with  his 
pocket  compass,  the  angle  where  the  two  lines 
formed  by  the  two  courses  of  the  bees  meet,  there 
he  knows  will  be  the  spot  at  which  the  nest  is 
placed. 


CH.  II.]  THE    HIVE   BEE.  45 

The  honey-rattel,  a  quadruped,  is  equally  saga- 
cious with  this  biped  honey-seeker.  Near  sunset, 
the  rattel  will  sit  and  hold  one  of  his  paws  over  his 
eyes  to  get  a  distinct  view  of  the  bees  which,  at  this 
hour,  he  knows  are  bound  to  their  nest,  and  thither 
he  follows. 

The  antennae  are  supposed  to  be  the  organ  of 
touch.  Certain  it  is  that  these  organs  alone  enable 
the  bee  to  work  in  the  darkness  of  the  hive. 

The  sense  of  taste  is,  according  to  Huber,  not 
very  refined,  for  it  matters  little  to  what  neighbour- 
hood the  bee  goes  to  gather  honey,  or  from  what 
flower.  Hence  the  quality  of  honey  varies  in  dif- 
ferent hives,  and  in  some  it  is  said  even  to  be  poi- 
sonous. 

The  sense  of  smell,  no  doubt,  is  also  acute.  Some 
honey  being  placed  behind  a  shutter  by  Huber, 
so  that  it  could  not  be  seen,  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
four  bees,  a  butterfly,  and  some  house-flies,  dis- 
covered it.  Huber  placed  honey  in  boxes  with 
small  cord  valves ;  and  put  them  two  hundred  yards 
from  the  apiary.  In  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  some 
bees  had  pushed  against  the  valves,  and  entered. 
Here  the  emanation  from  the  honey  was  almost  pent 
up  within  the  boxes,  and  the  sense  of  sight  could 
not  have  assisted  them. 

Huber  thinks  that  the  sense  of  hearing  is  very 
obtuse  in  bees.  He  says,  that  thunder,  or  the  report 
of  a  gun,  has  little  or  no  effect  upon  them.  It 
would,  therefore,  seem  that  the  popular  notion,  that 
they  are  affected  by  the  sound  of  a  tin  kettle,  is  not 
well  founded;  however,  it  cannot  be  denied  that 
sounds  are  made  by  the  flapping  of  the  wings  and 
other  movements  of  the  body  which  are  distinctly 
heard  and  understood  by  bees. 

Instances  have  been  stated  in  which  bees  recol- 
lected their  queen.  Another  may  be  adduced  which 
appears  to  prove  that  the  faculty  of  recollection  em- 
iraced  a  considerable  lapse  of  time.  "  In  autumn,'* 


46  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [CH.  III. 

says  Huber,  "  honey  had  been  placed  in  a  window, 
where  the  bees  resorted  to  it  in  multitudes.  It  was 
removed,  and  the  shutters  closed  during  winter; 
but  when  opened  again  on  the  return  of  spring-,  the 
bees  came  back,  though  no  honey  remained:  un- 
doubtedly they  remembered  it;  therefore,  an  in- 
terval of  several  weeks  did  not  obliterate  the  im- 
pression they  had  received." 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    HIVE    BEE. 

Interior  Arrangements  of  a  Bee-hive— Structure  of  a  Comb— Form  of 
the  Cells— Worker- Bees— Collection  of  Honey— Elaboration  of  Wax 
— Bee-bread — Cleanliness  of  Bees. 

THE  reader  must  now  be  introduced  to  the  interior 
of  the  hive,  and  made  acquainted  with  the  archi- 
tecture of  these  insects.  In  order  to  observe  the 
habits  of  this  insect- world,  the  best  plan  is  either  to 
have  several  glass  hives,  or  overturn  some  com- 
mon ones,  that  a  comparative  view  may  be  taken 
of  the  works  carrying  on  in  the  interior. 

"  It  is  absolutely  necessary,"  says  Reaumur, 
"  that  more  than  one  hive  should  be  thus  exposed ; 
for  then  we  shall  see  the  disposition  of  the  combs 
to  be  various  in  the  different  ones.  They  are  not 
restricted  to  a  uniform  mode  of  constructing  their 
cells,  but  accommodate  the  structure  to  circum»- 
stances." 

The  combs  do  not  touch  each  other,  but  are  sepa- 
rated by  intervals  sufficiently  wide  to  permit  the 
bees  to  work  at  the  surface  of  each  contiguous 
c-ombi,  and  approach  any  cell  without  quite  touching 
other — besides  these  highways,  the  little  city 


CH.  m.J  THE    HIVE    BEE.  47 

contains  also  narrower  passages,  by  which  the  com- 
munication between  one  cake  and  another  is  mate- 
rially shortened.  The  honey-comb  is  placed  ver- 
tically in  the  hive.  Each  comb  is  composed  of  two 
layers  of  six-sided  cells,  united  by  their  bases. 

If  the  bee  formed  its  comb  like  the  wasp,  having 
the  opening  of  the  cells  towards  one  of  its  faces, 
and  the  base  towards  the  other,  it  is  evident  that 
the  number  of  cells  placed  in  one  comb  would  have 
formed  two  combs — and  two  combs,  each  contain- 
ing a  single  set  of  cells,  would  of  course  take  up 
more  room  than  a  single  comb,  in  which  the  two 
rows  of  cells  are  united  base  to  base. 


The  cells  are  usually  placed  in  a  horizontal  po- 
sition, so  that  their  mouths  open  towards  the  sides 
of  the  hive.  The  bottom  of  the  cells,  instead  of 
forming  one  flat  square,  is  composed  of  three 
lozenge-shaped  pieces,  so  united  as  to  make  the 
cell  end  in  a  point; — consequently,  the  whole  is 
a  hexagonal  tube,  terminating  in  a  pyramidal  ca- 
vity. 

If  the  two  cells  had  been  a  single  hexagonal  tube, 
intersected  in  the  middle  by  a  flat  instead  of  a  pyra- 
midal division,  not  only  the  shape  would  not  have 
answered  the  purpose  of  the  bees,  but  more  wax 
would  have  been  expended  in  its  construction. 


48  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [OH.  in. 

Hence  it  appears  that  both  the  body  and  the  base  of 
the  tube  are  the  best  fitted  for  their  purposes ;  that 
the  greatest  strength  and  the  greatest -capacity  are 
obtained  with  the  least  expenditure  of  wax,  in  an 
hexagonal  tube  with  a  pyramidal  base. 

As  the  bottom  of  each  cell  is  formed  of  three 
lozenge-shaped  pieces,  it  is  obvious  that  their  junc- 
tion might  have  been  formed  at  any  imaginable 
angle.  Like  the  slated  roofs  of  our  houses,  it  might 
have  been  of  any  inclination.  Reaumur  suspected 
that,  as  the  bottom  of  the  cells  had  a  uniform  in- 
clination, this  particular  direction  was  the  one  which 
caused  the  least  expenditure  of  wax.  He  therefore 
asked  Kcenig,  an  able  analyst,  to  solve  the  follow- 
ing question :— among  all  the  hexagonal  tubes  with 
pyramidal  bases,  composed  of  three  similar  and 
equal  rhombs,  to  determine  that  which  can  be  con- 
structed with  the  least  possible  quantity  of  matter'? 
Kcenig,  not  at  all  aware  of  the  object  which  Reau- 
mur had  in  view  when  he  proposed  this  problem, 
worked  it  out,  and  found, — that  if  three  rhombs  or 
lozenges  were  so  inclined  to  each  other,  that  the 
great  angles  measured  109°  26',  and  the  little  angles 
70°  34',  this  construction  would  require  the  least 
quantity  of  matter.  Maraldi  measured  the  angles 
formed  at  the  bottom  of  a  cell,  and  found  that  the 
great  angles  gave  109°  28',  the  little  one  70°  32'!— 
Such  an  agreement  between  the  solution  and  the 
actual  measurement  is,  it  must  be  acknowledged, 
sufficiently  surprising.  It  is  impossible  to  look  at  a 
cell  without  fancying  that  some  profound  geometri- 
cian had  not  only  furnished  the  general  plan,  but 
also  assisted  in  its  execution.  The  bees  appear 
says  Reaumur,  to  have  had  a  problem  to  solve 
which  wrould  puzzle  many  a  mathematician.  "A 
quantity  of  matter  being  given,  it  is  required  to  form 
out  of  it  cells  which  shall  be  equal  and  similar,  and 
of  a  determinate  size,  but  the  largest  possible  with 
relation  to  the  quantity  of  matter  employed,  while 


CH.  III.]  THE    HIVE    BEE.  49 

they  shall  occupy  the  least  possible  space."  By 
making1  the  form  of  the  cell  hexagonal,  the  bee  has 
fully  answered  all  the  conditions  of  the  problem : 
this  form  occupies  the  least  possible  space,  while 
its  construction  consumes  the  least  possible  quan- 
tity of  material. 

It  has  been  stated,  that  the  combs  are  composed  of 
two  sets  of  cells,  united  by  their  bases.  Now,  if 
each  set  were  first  thoroughly  formed,  and  then  the 
two  cemented  together,  it  is  evident  that  there  would 
be  a  great  waste  of  wax,  since  each  of  the  cells 
would  have  a  distinct  pyramidal  base.  Instead,  how- 
ever, of  proceeding  thus,  the  bees  take  the  bases  of 
one  set  of  cells  as  bases  for  those  which  they  build 
on  the  opposite  surface  (see  fig.  1).  If  three  pins  be 
passed  through  the  middle  of  each  of  the  rhombs 
composing  the  pyramidal  base  of  a  cell,  they  will 
pierce  three  cells  of  the  opposite  surface ;  conse- 
quently, in  each  comb,  the  base  of  each  cell  is  com- 
posed of  three  rhombs  furnished  by  three  different 
cells  of  the  other  layer  of  the  comb. 


It  has  been  already  stated  that  the  community  of 
bees  is  divided  into  three  classes — workers,  males, 
and  a  female.  Huber  has  found  that  there  is  a  divi- 
sion of  labour  among  the  workers ;  one  set  of  work- 
ers are  finished  architects,  who  plan  and  build  the 
edifice — they  at  the  same  time  are  the  nurses  of  the 
young;  while  the  other  are  mere  bricklayers  and 
I.— E 


50  NATTRAL   HISTORY.  [CH.  III. 

plasterers,  who  only  bring  the  raw  material,  but  do 
not  give  it  shape.  The  former  he  calls  the  nurse- 
bees  ;  the  latter,  wax-workers. 

Wax  is  not,  like  honey,  a  simple  substance  'ex- 
tracted by  bees  from  the  flower.  On  the  contrary, 
it  is  a  secretion,  found  in  the  form  of  scales  under 
their  belly.  The  wax-workers,  having  gorged  them- 
selves with  the  nectar  of  flowers,  hang  motionless 
in  festoons  in  the  hive ;  and  in  the  course  of  twenty- 
four  hours  scales  of  a  white  matter  like  talc  are 
formed  under  the  rings  of  the  abdomen.  The  nurse- 
bees  secrete  wax  too,  but  in  very  inconsiderable 
quantities.  Huber  having  provided  a  hive  with  ho- 
ney and  water,  it  was  resorted  to  in  crowds  by  bees, 
which,  having  satisfied  their  appetite,  returned  to  the 
hive.  They  then  formed  festoons,  remained  mo- 
tionless for  twenty-four  hours,  and  after  a  time  scales 
of  wax  appeared.  An  adequate  supply  of  wax  fop 
the  construction  of  a  comb  having  been  elaborated, 
one  of  the  bees  disengaged  itself  from  the  centre  of 
the  group,  and  clearing  a  space  about  an  inch  in  dia 
meter,  at  the  top  of  the  hive,  applied  the  pincers  of 
one  of  its  legs  to  its  side,  detached  a  scale  of  wax, 
and  immediately  began  to  mince  it  with  the  tongue. 
During  the  operation,  this  organ  was  made  to  as- 
sume every  variety  of  shape ;  sometimes  it  appeared 
like  a  trowel,  then  flattened  like  a  spatula,  and  at 
other  times  like  a  pencil  ending  in  a  point.  The 
scale,  moistened  with  a  frothy  liquid,  became  gluti- 
nous, and  was  drawn  out  like  a  riband.  This  bee, 
which  Huber  has  immortalized  by  the  epithet  of 
"  founder,"  then  attached  all  the  wax  it  could  con- 
coct to  the  vault  of  the  hive,  and  went  its  way ;  a 
second  now  succeeded,  and  did  the  like ;  a  third  fol- 
lowed, but,  owing  to  some  blunder,  did  not  put  the 
wax  in  the  same  line  with  that  placed  by  its  prede- 
cessor ;  upon  which,  says  Huber,  "  another  bee,  ap- 
parently sensible  of  the  defect,  removed  the  dis- 
placed wax,  and  carrying  it  to  the  former  heap,  de- 


CH.  m.] 


THE    HIVE  BEE. 


51 


posited  it  there  exactly  in  the  order  and  direction 
pointed  out." 

The  result  of  this  series  of  operations  was  a  little 
block  of  wax,  fixed  to  the  vault  of  the  hive,  running 
in  a  straight  line,  rugged  in  surface,  but  circular  in 
its  edges,  half  an  inch  long,  one-sixth  of  an  inch  high, 
and  about  the  twenty-fourth  part  of  an  inch  thick. 
The  wax-workers,  or  common  labourers,  having  de- 


posited the  requisite  stock  of  materials,  an  architect, 
or  nurse-bee,  quitted  the  cluster,  inspected  both  sides 
of  the  block,  felt  here  and  there  with  its  antennae, 


Fig.  1  and  2,  represent  the  mode  of  making  the  first  cells 
Fig.  3.    The  fcexagyaa!  shape  oi  the  perfect  cell. 


52  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  HI. 

and  then,  like  a  skilful  mason,  proceeded  to  exca- 
vate exactly  in  the  centre,  as  much  of  the  block  as 
equalled  the  diameter  of  a  common  cell ;  and  after 
kneading  the  material  which  it  had  removed,  the  in- 
sect placed  it  carefully  at  the  sides  of  the  excava- 
tion. Having  performed  its  task,  it  was  succeeded 
by  a  second  bee ;  and  in  this  manner  upwards  of 
twenty  workers  succeeded  each  other,  each  one  tak- 
ing care  to  push  forwards  the  material  excavated  so 
as  to  extend  the  walls  of  the  cell.  When  the  cell 
had  risen  and  been  extended  on  one  side,  a  bee  quit- 
ted the  swarm,  and  after  encircling  the  block,  began 
on  the  side  opposite  to  that  of  the  first  cell,  and,  as- 
sisted by  another,  sketched  out  two,  which  were 
so  situated,  that  the  partition  between  them  was 
precisely  opposite  the  first  cell,  on  the  reverse  side. 
Those  who  wish  for  a  more  minute  detail  of  this 
operation  may  consult  Huber's  account.  They  ne- 
ver at  first  begin  two  masses  for  combs  at  the  same 
time,  but  scarcely  are  some  rows  of  cells  constructed 
in  the  first  comb,  before  two  other  masses,  one  on 
each  side  of  it,  are  established  at  equal  distances 
from  it,  and  then  again  two  more  exterior  to  these. 

As  the  stock  of  raw  material  is  gradually  exhausted 
during  the  progress  of  these  operations,  the  wax 
workers  continue  adding  to  it  a  fresh  supply.  The 
expedition  with  which  they  effect  their  various  objects 
is  very  great.  When  settled  for  the  first  time  in  a  new 
hive,  they  will  sometimes  construct  a  comb  twenty- 
seven  inches  long,  by  seven  or  eight  inches  wide,  in 
the  space  of  twenty-four  hours ;  and  in  the  course 
of  five  or  six  days  they  will  half-fill  the  hive :  hence 
it  appears,  that,  in  the  first  fifteen  days  after  they  take 
possession  of  a  new  habitation,  there  is  as  much  wax 
made  as  they  elaborate  during  the  remainder  of  the 
year. 

There  are  three  sorts  of  cells ;  the  first  are  for  the 
larvae  of  workers ;  the  second  for  those  of  the  males 
or  drones,  which  are  larger  than  the  former,  and  are 


CH.  III.]  THE    HIVE  BEE.  53 

usually  situated  in -the  middle  of  the  comb ;  the  third 
are  the  royal  cells.  An  inattentive  observer  might 
perhaps  be  led  to  infer,  that  the  various  cells  com- 
posing a  cake  are  little  habitations  in  which  -the 
workers  might  repose  themselves  after  .the  labours 
of  the  day,  each  in  its  own  house.  This,  however, 
Js  not  the  fact :  for  some  of  these  are  filled  with  ho- 
jney,  and  others  closed  up.  On  a  more  careful 
Inspection,  it  will  be  seen  that  most  of  the  cells 
.contain  a  little  worm :  the  young  of  the  bee — an  ob- 
ject evidently  of  the  most  anxious  care  and  attention 
•to  those  appointed  to  watch  and  feed  them.  But  al- 
though indefatigably  industrious,  even  these  insects, 
when  tired  with  labour,  require  repose,  and  cease  to 
work  when  the  ordinary  motive  for  exertion  is  with- 
drawn. It  is  curious  to  observe  their  mode-of  rest ; 
four  or  five  cling  to  a  part  of  the  hive,  and  extend 
their  hind  legs,  whence  others  suspend  themselves 
by  their  fore  feet.  These  do  the  same  neighbourly 
turn  for  another  line,  and  thus  at  all  times  either 
bunches  (fig.  1)  or  festoons  (fig.  2)  of  bees  may  be 


seen  reposing.    Huber,  however,  has  seen  the  work 
ers  retiring  sometimes  to  a  cell,  and  remaining  mo- 
tionless for  twenty  minutes. 
E2 


54  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  lit 

The  length  of  the  period  which  elapses  before 
they  assume  their  ultimate  form,  varies  in  the  three 
kinds  of  bees,  and  is  thus  stated  by  Huber.  "  The 
worm  of  the  worker  takes  twenty  days,  the  male 
twenty-four,  the  queen  sixteen  days,  in  arriving  at 
maturity.  The  worker  remains  three  days  in  the 
egg ;  five  in  the  grub  state,  when  the  bees  close  up 
its  cell  with  a  waxen  covering ;  it  is  thirty-six  hours 
in  spinning  its  cocoon ;  in  three  days  it  changes  to 
a  nymph,  passes  six  in  that  form,  and  then  comes 
forth  a  perfect  bee. 

"  The  male  passes  three  days  in  the  egg ;  six  and 
a  half  as  a  worm,  and  on  the  twenty-fourth  makes 
its  appearance  as  a  winged  animal. 

"  The  royal  insect  passes  three  days  in  the  egg ; 
is  five  a  worm,  when  the  bees  close  its  cell,  and  it 
immediately  begins  its  cocoon,  which  is  finished 
in  twenty-four  hours.  During  eleven  days,  and 
even  sixteen  hours  of  the  twelfth,  it  remains  in  a 
state  of  complete  repose.  Its  transformation  into  a 
nymph  then  takes  place,  in  which  state  four  days 
and  a  part  of  a  fifth  are  passed." 

On  the  fifth  day  after  her  appearance,  the  queen 
quits  the  hive  for  the  purpose  of  fecundation :  for- 
ty-six hours  afterward  she  begins  to  lay  eggs,  and 
a  hive  will  often  consist  of  forty  thousand  inhabit- 
ants, the  most  of  them  her  own  offspring.  The 
first  eggs  of  the  queen  always  give  birth  to  workers. 
In  spring  she  lays  about  two  thousand  eggs  of 
males,  resumes  it  again  in  August,  but  during  the 
rest  of  the  intervals  she  exclusively  lays  workers' 
eggs.  It  is  curious  that  oviposition  is  retarded  by 
cold ;  during  winter  it  does  not  take  place.  Huber 
relates  an  instance  where  a  queen,  instead  of  laying 
her  eggs  forty-six  hours  after  fecundation,  did  not  do 
so  for  several  months,  owing  to  her  impregnation 
having  taken  place  just  before  winter. 

The  queen  must  be  at  least  eleven  months  old, 
before  she  begins  to  lay  the  eggs  of  males.  The 


CH.  III.J  THE  HIVE  BEE.  55 

bees,  both  workers  and  queen,  know  the  period  of 
oviposition  proper  for  each  kind  of  egg,  and  take 
care  to  provide  suitable  cells  at  a  proper  period. 

Huber  removed  all  the  worker-cells  from  a  hive, 
and  left  nothing  but  male  cells ;  the  bees,  instead  of 
repairing  the  damage  done  to  the  hive,  by  uniting 
the  fragments  of  comb,  seemed  quite  disheartened, 
went  into  the  fields,  but  returned  unladen.  The 
queen,  too,  hesitated  about  laying  her  worker-eggs 
in  the  large  male  cells,  and  at  last  they  were  seen 
to  drop  from  her  at  random.  However,  six  eggs 
were  deposited  regularly ;  but  the  workers  did  not 
treat  them  very  carefully.  They  were  removed 
next  day,  and  the  cells  left  empty.  In  order  to  re- 
animate them,  he  gave  the  bees  a  piece  of  comb, 
composed  of  worker-cells,  but  which  were  filled 
with  male  instead  of  worker-eggs.  For  twelve  days 
the  bees  obstinately  abstained  from  working  in 
wax,  but  at  last  they  positively  removed  the  whole 
of  the  male  brood,  and  cleaned  the  cells,  just  as  if 
they  had  been  aware  that  the  eggs  which  were  to 
come  from  the  queen  required  worker-cells.  As 
soon  as  this  was  done,  the  queen  no  longer  dropped 
her  eggs  at  random,  but  deposited  them  in  the  cells. 
The  male  cells  were  then  taken  away,  and  the 
worker-cells  restored ;  upon  which  the  ordinary  la- 
bours of  the  hive  were  resumed.  If  the  workers 
reasoned  and  felt,  here  is  a  fact  which  would  at 
once  attest  their  foresight,  and  their  affection  for 
their  queen ;  they  knew  she  required  worker-cells, 
and  accordingly,  to  accommodate  her,  they  pulled 
out  the  male,  brood,  which,  under  other  circum- 
stances, they  would  have  fondly  nourished. 

Hence  it  is  reasonable  to  infer  that  the  ovaries  of 
the  queen  contain  a  regular  succession  of  eggs,  and 
that  the  bees  know  this  as  well  as  herself,  at  least 
they  act  as  if  they  knew  it.  There  is,  however,  a 
curious  effect  produced  by  retarding  the  fecundation 
of  the  queen.  Huber  found,  that  if  fecundation 


56  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  III. 

took  place  in  the  first  fifteen  days  of  a  queen's  life, 
the  regular  series  of  eggs  was  deposited ;  but  if  de- 
layed beyond  the  twenty-second  day,  the  queen  laid 
only  the  eggs  of  males  for  the  rest  of  her  life.  Now, 
it  must  be  remembered  that,  in  the  natural  state, 
she  must  have  been  at  least  eleven  months  old  be- 
fore male  eggs  could  be  laid,  and  yet  it  appears  that, 
simply  by  retarding  fecundation  twenty- two  days, 
she  begins  immediately  to  bring  forth  male  eggs ; 
of  this  extraordinary  fact  no  satisfactory  explana- 
tion has  been  hitherto  given.  The  instinct  of  the 
queen  seems  affected  by  the  delay;  for  although, 
when  fecundation  has  not  been  retarded,  she  never 
fails  to  deposite  the  different  sorts  of  eggs  in  their 
proper  cells ;  when  it  has,  she  lays  them  indiscrimi- 
nately in  any  cells.  The  workers  too  are  puzzled ; 
for  in  the  natural  state  they  can  accurately  distin- 
guish between  the  different  kinds  of  eggs,  and  they 
never  fail  to  give  a  peculiar  covering  to  the  male 
cells  ;  but  when  the  impregnation  of  the  queen  hap- 
pens to  have  been  retarded,  they  feed  the  worms 
of  drones,  deposited  in  a  royal  cell,  as  if  they  were 
royal  worms. 

The  royal  cells  differ  essentially  from  the  others, 
both  in  form  and  position ;  they  are  not  placed  hori- 
zontally like  the  other  cells,  but  vertically,  and  re- 
semble a  pear  with  the  small  end  downwards.  When 
the  queen  lays  in  them,  they  are  like  the  cup 
of  an  acorn ;  after  this  they  are  modelled  to  the  py- 
riform  shape,  and  quite  closed  up.  In  the  construc- 
tion of  these  cells,  the  bees  seem  to  lose  sight  of 
their  customary  habits  of  economy ;  no  expenditure 
of  materials  is  considered  too  great ;  no  space  ne- 
cessary for  the  accommodation  of  the  future  queen 
is  grudged.  More  wax  is  expended  in  constructing1 
the  cradle  of  the  infant  queen,  than  would  suffice  to 
build  one  hundred  or  one  hundred  and  fifty  ordinary 
cells ;  and  no  labour  is  spared  in  rendering  it  com- 
pact and  solid. 


CH.  III.] 


THE  HIVE  BEE. 


67 


Fig.  I.  Closed  royal  cell. 

2.  Another  varied  in  shape. 

3.  Two  cells  just  commenced ;  their  apertures  are  here  drawn 
looking  upwards,  to  show  their  cavity.    This  position  is  the 
reverse  of  the  natural  one. 

One  of  the  most  astonishing-  facts  connected  with 
the  economy  of  bees,  is  the  manner  in  which,  when 
deprived  of  their  queen,  they  proceed  to  repair  their 
loss:  for  this  purpose  they  construct  several  of 
these  royal  cells,  and  taking  a  common  worker- 
worm  out  of  the  ordinary  cells,  they  put  it  into  a 
royal  one,  feed  the  insect  with  royal  food,  which  is 
more  pungent  than  that  destined  for  worker  grubs, 
and  in  a  few  days,  instead  of  a  worker,  they  have  a 
queen.  This  extraordinary  discovery,  made  by 
Schirach,  has  been  confirmed  by  Huber,  and  is  now 
admitted  by  all  naturalists.  In  many  parts  of  Ger- 
many, and  more  especially  in  Lusatia  and  Saxony, 
the  peasants,  availing  themselves  of  this  discovery, 
are  enabled  to  multiply  their  swarms  of  bees  at 
pleasure ;  they  shut  up  a  few  hundred  working  bees 


58  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  HI. 

with  a  piece  of  honey-comb  containing-  common 
grubs  three  or  four  days  old :  the  worker  bees  im- 
mediately set  about  destroying  some  of  the  common 
cells  ;  construct  royal  cells  in  their  stead ;  deposite 
the  grubs  in  these  cells,  and  administer  to  them  food 
proper  for  grubs  destined  to  become  queens.  This 
experiment  is  constantly  repeated,  and  never  found 
to  fail.  In  the  proper  time  a  number  of  young 
queens  is  produced;  the  supernumeraries  are  de- 
stroyed ;  and  at  length  only  one  survives  to  govern 
the  hive.  Thus  wonderfully  does  nature  provide 
for  the  preservation  of  the  species — the  life  of  thou- 
sands of  these  insects  depending  on  that  of  a  queen. 
In  order  to  guard  against  the  possibility  of  exter- 
mination, she  has  taught  the  bee  the  miracle  of  con- 
verting the  whole  of  the  instincts  and  organization 
of  one  kind  into  those  of  another,  by  the  simple 
means  of  providing  a  different  and  a  more  pungent 
kind  of  food  for  the  subject  of  its  marvellous  expe- 
riment. There  seems,  however,  to  be  a  natural 
provision  for  this  change ;  for  it  is  found  that  all  the 
workers  are  imperfect  females,  whose  organs  are 
not  developed :  the  food  simply  farthers  this  deve- 
lopement.  But  whether  we  look  to  the  design  or 
the  means  used,  or  the  circumstances  under  which 
it  is  effected,  it  is  one  of  the  most  striking  facts  in 
the  whole  range  of  natural  history. 

As  soon  as  the  queen  bee  has  laid  her  eggs  in  the 
various  cells,  the  nurses  are  incessantly  occupied  in 
watching  over  the  brood.  For  this  purpose,  they 
ROW  forego  every  other  employment.  There  is 
usually  but  one  egg  deposited  in  each  cell;  but 
when  the  fecundity  of  the  queen  happens  to  exceed 
the  number  of  cells  already  prepared,  three  or  four 
eggs  maybe  found  crowded  together  in  the  same 
repository.  But  this  is  an  inconvenience  which 
the  working  bees  will  not  permit  to  continue ;  they 
seem  to  be  aware  that  two  young  ones  placed  in 
the  same  cell,  when  they  grow  larger,  would  first 


CH.  III.]  THE  HIVE  BEE.  59 

embarrass,  and  then  destroy  each  other,  Henee, 
they  take  care  that  no  cell  shall  contain  more  than 
one  egg ;  all  the  rest  they  remove  or  destroy. 

The  single  egg  which  is  left  remaining  is  glued 
by  its  smaller  end  to  the  bottom  of  the  cell,  which 
it  touches  only  in  a  single  point.  A  day  or  two 
after  the  egg  has  been  thus  deposited,  the  worm  is 
excluded  from  the  shell ;  presenting  the  appearance 
of  a  maggot  rolled  up  in  a  ring,  and  reposing  softly 
in  a  bed  of  whitish-coloured  jelly,  upon  which  the 
little  animal  soon  begins  to  feed.  The  instant  the 
little  worm  appears,  the  working  bees  attend  it  with 
the  most  anxious  tenderness ;  watching  the  cell  with 
unremitting  care,  they  furnish  the  infant  insect  with 
a  constant  supply  of  the  whitish  substance,  on  which 
it  both  feeds  and  lies.  These  nurses  evince  for  the 
offspring-  of  another  greater  affection  than  many 
parents  show  towards  their  own  children.  They  re- 
gularly visit  each  cell  at  very  short  intervals,  in 
order  to  see  that  nothing  be  wanting;  and  they  are 
constantly  engaged  in  preparing  the  white  mixture 
on  which  the  insect  feeds. 

Thus  attended  and  plentifully  fed ,  the  worm,  in  less 
than  ten  days'  time,  acquires  its  full  growth,  and 
ceases  to  take  its  usual  food.  Perceiving  that  it  has 
no  occasion  for  a  farther  supply,  they  perform  the 
last  office  of  tenderness,  and  shut  the  little  animal 
up  in  its  cell ;  they  close  the  mouth  of  the  aperture 
with  a  waxen  lid";  and  the  worm,  thus  effectually 
secured  against  every  external  injury,  is  left  to 
itself. 

The  worm  is  no  sooner  shut  up,  than  it  throws  off 
its  inactivity  and  begins  to  labour ;  alternately  elon- 
gating and  contracting  its  body,  it  contrives  to  line 
the  sides  of  its  apartment  with  a  soft  material,  which 
it  spins  after  the  manner  of  other  caterpillars,  before 
they  undergo  their  last  transformation.  The  cell 
having  been  thus  prepared,  the  animal  passes  into 
the  aurelia  state ;  when,  although  in  a  state  of  per- 


60  NATTRAL   HISTORY.  [cH.  HI. 

feet  inactivity,  it  exhibits  not  only  the  legs  but  the 
wings  of  the  future  bee.  Thus,  in  about  twenty  or 
one-and-twenty  days,  the  bee  acquires  its  perfect 
form,  and  becomes  in  every  respect  fitted  for  its  fu- 
ture labours.  When  all  its  parts  have  acquired  their 
proper  strength  and  consistence,  the  young  insect 
pierces  with  its  teeth  the  waxen  door  of  the  prison 
in  which  it  is  confined. 

The  different  transformations  will  be  best  under- 
stood by  the  subjoined  cut :  the  first  represents  the 
egg  stuck  to  the  bottom  of  the  cell  by  a  glutinous 
matter ;  its  form  is  oblong.  The  next  gives  a  view 
of  a  cell  with  the  worm  hatched  and  coiled  up.  The 
third  shows  the  worm  changed  into  a  nymph. 


When  quite  freed  from  its  cell,  it  is  as  yet  moist 
and  encumbered  with  the  spoils  of  its  former  situa- 
tion, but  the  officious  bees  soon  come  to  its  relief  j 
one  party  is  seen  to  flock  around  it,  and  lick  it  clean 
on  all  sides  with  their  trunks,  while  another  band 
may  be  observed  equally  assiduous  in  feeding  it  with 
honey ;  others  immediately  begin  to  cleanse  the  cell 
which  the  young  insect  has  just  quitted,  and  fit  it  for 
the  accommodation  of  a  new  inhabitant.  The  young 
bee  soon  repays  their  care  by  its  industry ;  for  the 
moment  its  external  parts  become  dry,  it  discovers 
its  natural  appetites  for  labour.  Freed  from  the  cell 
and  properly  equipped  for  duty,  it  at  once  issues  from 
the  hive,  and,  instructed  only  by  its  natural  instinct, 
proceeds  in  quest  of  flowers,  selects  only  those  which 
contain  a  supply  of  honey ;  rejects  such  as  are  bar- 
ren, or  have  been  already  drained  by  other  adven- 
turers ;  and  when  loaded,  is  never  at  a  loss  for  its 
way  back  to  the  common  habitation.  After  this  first 


CH.  III.]  THE  HIVE  BEE.  61 

sally,  it  unremittingly  pursues,  throughout  the  whole 
course  of  its  future  existence,  the  task  which  its  in- 
stinct thus  impels  it  to  begin. 

There  are  three  substances  for  which  bees  forage 
during  their  excursions  from  the  hive :  honey,  or  a 
saccharine  matter  extracted  from  the  nectary  of 
flowers — the  pollen  or  fertilizing  dust  of  the  anthers 
— and  an  odoriferous  resin  called  propolis. 

Honey  is  extracted  from  that  part  of  the  flower 
called  the  nectarium.  For  the  purpose  of  collecting 
this  fluid  substance,  the  insect  is  furnished  with  a 
trunk  or  tongue,  which  it  is  capable  of  doubling  up 
or  elongating  at  pleasure.  This  is  not  formed  in 
the  manner  of  a  tube,  by  which  the  fluid  is  to  be 
sucked  up,  but  like  a  tongue,  to  lick  away  the  honeyed 
juice  which  nature  has  secreted  in  the  little  glands 
which  were  always  known  to  the  bee,  although  they 
had,  until  a  very  recent  period,  completely  eluded 
the  researches  of  the  most  skilful  botanists.  From 
the  tongue  this  sweet  juice  is  conveyed  to  the  mouth : 
it  then  passes  through  the  gullet  into  the  first  sto- 
mach or  honey-bag,  which,  when  filled,  appears  like 
an  oblong  bladder,  and  as  transparent  as  crystal  (see 
Jig.  p.  62).  Children  in  country  places  are  well 
acquainted  with  this  bladder,  and  destroy  many  bees 
in  order  to  get  at  their  store  of  honey.  When  the 
bee  has  sufficiently  filled  this  bag,  it  returns  to  the 
hive,  and,  reserving  only  a  small  part  of  its  load  for 
its  own  use,  disgorges  the  remainder  into  one  of  the 
cells.  Sometimes  the  insect  may  be  seen  delivering1 
its  surplus  store  to  another  bee,  which  appears  ready 
to  receive  it  at  the  entrance  of  the  hive ;  when  it  flies 
off  for  a  fresh  supply.  Some  honeycombs  are  always 
left  open  for  the  common  use  of  the  workers  engaged 
in  the  hive ;  but  the  greater  number  of  the  cells  filled 
during  the  course  of  the  summer  are  carefully 
stopped  up  until  the  internal  supply  of  honey  begins 
to  fail,  and  it  becomes  necessary  to  have  recourse  to 
their  contents.  When  the  harvest  of  honey  is  so 
I.— F 


02  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [cH.  TH. 


1.  Honey-bag,  or  first  stomach* 

2.  Second  stomach. 

3.  Biliary  and  salivary  ducts. 

4.  Large  intestines. 

plentiful  that  the  bees  have  not  sufficient  room  for  if? 
they  either  lengthen  their  cells  or  build  new  ones. 

The  pollen  or  yellow  dust,  which  loosely  adheres 
to  the  central  parts  of  flowers,  is  another  substance 
eagerly  sought  after  by  the  industrious  bee.  The 
breast,  legs,  and  many  other  parts  of  the  body  are 
covered  with  a  fine  down  or  hair.  The  insect  enters 
the  cup  of  a  flower  charged  with  this  yellow  farina, 
rolls  itself  round,  and  soon  becomes  quite  covered 
with  this  vegetable  dust.  Nature  has  provided  the 
bee  with  means  admirably  adapted  to  secure  the 
treasure  thus  collected  on  its  body;  the  last  joint 
but  one  of  each  leg  being  formed  exactly  like  a 
brush.  These  natural  brushes  are  passed  one  after 
another  over  the  various  parts  of  its  body,  and  by 
that  means  the  pollen  is  collected  into  two  little 


CH.  m.J  THE  HIVE  BEE.  63 

heaps.  The  thighs  of  the  last  pair  of  the  insect's 
legs  are  furnished  with  two  cavities  fringed  with 
hair ;  these  form  a  convenient  little  basket  for  the 
use  of  the  bee.  The  dust  collected  from  a  thousand 
flowers  is  kneaded  into  diminutive  pellets  and  stuck 
into  these  cavities ;  and  when  these  balls  have  been 
increased  to  the  size  of  a  grain  of  pepper,  away  flies 
the  insect  to  deposite  its  store  in  the  hive. 

But  this  meal  or  dust  is  not  always  to  be  obtained 
in  sufficient  quantities :  early  in  the  season,  before 
the  flowers  upon  which  the  bee  feeds  are  generally 
blown,  this  pollen  is  contained  in  a  capsule  from 
which,  in  its  then  immature  state,  it  is  not  easily 
dislodged.  The  bee,  however,  well  knows  where 
the  object  of  its  search  lies  concealed — it  examines 
and  feels  these  repositories :  having  discovered  one 
sufficiently  advanced  towards  maturity  to  answer  its 
purpose,  it  pinches  the  capsule  with  its  teeth,  and 
then  takes  possession  of  the  hidden  treasure. 

When  a  bee,  charged  with  a  load  of  this  vegetable 
dust,  reaches  the  hive.,  it  enters  one  of  the  cells  head 
foremost.  The  pellets  are  then  detached  from  the 
hollow  cavities  in  which  they  have  been  carried,  and 
being  moistened  and  mixed  with  a  small  portion  of 
honey,  they  are  kneaded  into  a  substance  called  by 
the  country  people  bee-bread.  An  adequate  supply 
of  this  food  is  indispensable  for  the  health  and 
strength  of  bees  during  the  winter  season.  Bees 
may  be  robbed  of  their  honey,  and  will  thrive  if  fed 
during  the  winter  with  treacle ;  but  no  proper  substi- 
tute has  yet  been  found  for  this  bee-bread.  When 
deprived  of  this  necessary  of  life,  they  become  con- 
sumptive and  die. 

The  gathering  of  the  pollen  affords  a  striking  illus- 
tration of  the  means  indirectly  employed  by  nature 
to  second  her  purposes.  The  pollen  is  the  fertilizing 
dust  of  flowers  ;  it  is  necessary  for  some  of  it  to  fall 
on  a  particular  part  of  the  pistil,  in  order  that  the 
flower  .shall  give  place  to  fruit,  enclosing  the  seed  of 


64  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  HI. 

a  future  plant.  Now,  it  has  been  remarked  by  a 
great  number  of  naturalists,  that  the  bee,  when  it 
collects  the  pollen  from  one  plant,  does  not  go  to  a 
different  sort  of  plant  for  more,  but,  labouring  to  col- 
lect the  same  kind  of  fertilizing  dust,  it  seeks  only 
the  same  kinds  of  flowers.  Since  the  fecundation 
of  the  vegetable  kingdom  is  effected  in  no  small 
degree  through  the  medium  of  insects,  which,  while 
searching  for  their  own  food,  unconsciously  sprinkle 
the  fertilizing  pollen  on  the  reproductive  organs  of 
plants,  it  follows,  that  had  the  bee  gone  from  one 
kind  of  flower  to  another,  this  would  have  given  rise 
to  hybrid  plants,  and  thus  have  counteracted  the 
purposes  of  nature. 

"  I  have  frequently,"  says  Dobs,  "  followed  a  bee 
loading  the  farina  bee-bread  or  crude  wax  on  its  legs, 
through  part  of  a  great  field  in  flower,  and  on  what- 
ever flower  it  first  alighted  and  gathered  the  farina, 
it  continued  gathering  from  that  kind  of  flower,  and 
passed  over  many  other  species,  though  very  nume* 
rous  in  the  field,  without  alighting  on  or  loading  from 
them — though  the  flower  it  chose  was  much  scarcer 
than  the  others :  so  that  if  it  began  to  load  from  a 
daisy,  it  continued  loading  from  the  same,  neglecting 
clover,  honeysuckles,  and  the  violet.  What  farther 
confirms  my  observation  is,  that  each  load  on  the 
legs  of  a  bee  is  of  one  uniform  colour. 

Besides  honey  and  pollen,  there  is  a  third  substance 
which  bees  collect  as  essential  for  their  purposes 
This  is  a  resinous  gum,  differing  from  wax  in  tena- 
city as  well  as  in  various  other  qualities ;  it  is  an 
exuding  substance  found  in  certain  trees,  such  as  the 
birch,  the  willow,  and  the  poplar.  To  the  ancients 
it  was  known  under  the  name  of  propolis.  Near  the 
outlet  of  one  of  his  hives,  Huber  placed  some 
branches  of  the  poplar  tree,  which  exudes  a  trans- 
parent j  uice  of  the  colour  of  garnet.  Several  worker- 
bees  were  soon  seen  perching  upon  these  branches  ; 
having  detached  some  of  this  resinous  gum,  they 


CH.  III.]  THE  HIVE  BEE.  65 

formed  it  into  pellets,  and  deposited  them  in  the  bas- 
kets of  their  thighs ;  thus  loaded,  they  flew  to  the 
hive  where  some  of  their  fellow-labourers  instantly 
came  to  assist  them  in  detaching  this  viscid  sub- 
stance from  their  baskets.  These  pellets  were  laid 
in  a  little  heap  as  near  as  possible  to  the  place  in 
which  it  was  afterward  used.  In  the  instance  ob- 
served by  Huber,  the  propoli-s  was  attached  to  the 
roof  the  hive,  exactly  in  the  centre  between  two  of 
the  combs,  so  that  it  lay  in  a  situation  equally  con- 
venient with  respect  to  the  cells  of  either.  A  bee 
then  drew  out  a  thread  from  the  viscid  mass ;  it  then 
cut  it  off  with  its  teeth,  and  laid  hold  of  it  with  the 
elaw  of  one  of  its  feet.  Thus  equipped,  the  insect 
was  seen  to  enter  one  of  the  cells  which  had  been 
but  just  formed.  The  object  of  this  manoeuvre  was 
soon  apparent ;  when  the  insect  came  out,  one  of  the 
angles  formed  by  the  junction  of  two  of  the  six  sides 
forming  the  ceil,  was  found  lined  and  soldered  with 
propolis.  The  process  was  regularly  repeated,  until 
all  the  angles  had  been  lined  and  secured  in  a  simi- 
lar manner;  not  indeed  by  the  same  bee,  but  by 
others  which  shared  in  this  labour.  Having  finished 
one  cell,  they  proceeded  to  another,  until  all  the  cells 
destined  for  the  young  had  been  thus  soldered  and 
strengthened. 

Propolis  is  the  substance  used  in  all  cases  in  which 
strength  and  solidity  are  required.  It  is  well  known 
that  the  habitation  of  bees  ought  to  be  very  close ; 
if  it  contained  any  cracks  or  unstopped  crevices, 
other  insects  might  enter  the  hive,  or  the  rain  might 
penetrate  into  the  interior,  which  would  be  attended 
with  fata!  consequences.  Any  deficiencies  in  these 
respects,  which  may  arise  either  from  the  unskilful- 
ness  or  negligence  of  man,  the  insects  supply  by 
their  own  industry ;  so  that  when  they  take  posses- 
sion of  a  new  habitation,  their  first  and  principal  care 
is  to  close  up  all  crannies  with  propolis.  When  the 
bees  begin  to  work  with  this  substance  it  is  soft,  but 
F2 


66  NATURAL    HISTORY,  [CH.  III. 

every  day  it  acquires  a  firmer  consistence ;  until  at 
length  it  assumes  a  brown  colour,  and  becomes  much 
harder  than  wax. 

When  the  foundations  of  the  combs  are  laid,  the 
first  row  of  cells  differs  from  the  succeeding-  ones  in 
that  it  is  composed  of  five  instead  of  six  sides :  the 
fifth  or  broadest  being-  the  side  or  base  by  which  the 
comb  was  suspended  from  the  roof  of  the  hive.  As 
long-  as  the  cells  are  but  few  in  number,  and  not  over- 
loaded with  honey,  this  pentagonal  row  is  sufficiently 
strong  to  support  the  comb ;  but  when  the  wants  of 
the  hive  render  it  necessary  to  construct  more  cells 
and  increase  the  stock  of  honey,  their  instinct  in- 
forms the  bees,  that  the  foundations  of  the  comb  are 
not  sufficiently  strong  to  support  the  increased 
weight.  Accordingly,  they  are  seen,  in  a  sort  of 
fury,  to  fall  upon  and  destroy  the  pentagonal  cells, 
and  for  the  wax  with  which  they  were  originally  con- 
structed, to  substitute  a  composition  of  propolis  and 
wax.  This  substance  was,  by  the  ancients,  termed 
pissoceros.  The  tenacity  and  strength  of  this  mate- 
rial render  the  foundations  of  the  combs  perfectly 
secure,  and  relieve  the  bees  from  all  subsequent  anx- 
iety on  that  account.  The  ingenuity  evinced  by  the 
bees  in  the  performance  of  this  task  is  no  less  worthy 
of  admiration  than  the  sagacity  which  enables 
them  to  find  out  its  necessity.  It  is  evident  that,  if 
the  first  row  of  cells  were  removed  at  once,  the  comb 
itself  would  fall ;  since  it  is  attached  to  the  roof 
of  the  hive  by  means  of  this  row.  In  order  to  guard 
against  this  danger,  the  bees  work  at  alternate  sides 
of  the  comb ;  they  remove  first  one  portion  of  the 
old  comb,  substituting  for  the  brittle  wax  the  strong 
and  tenacious  cement  called  pissoceros,  before  they 
touch  the  other. 

Among  other  virtues  possessed  by  bees,  cleanli- 
ness is  one  of  the  most  marked ;  they  will  not  suf- 
fer the  least  filth  in  their  abode.  It  sometimes  hap- 
pens that  an  ill-advised  slug  or  ignorant  snail  chooses 


CH.  III.]  THE  HIVE  BEE.  07 

to  enter  the  hive,  and  has  even  the  audacity  to  walk 
over  the  comb ;  the  presumptuous  and  foul  intruder 
is  quickly  killed,  but  its  gig-antic  carcase  is  not  so 
speedily  removed.  Unable  to  transport  the  corpse 
out  of  their  dwelling-,  and  fearing  "the  noxious 
smells"  arising  from  corruption,  the  bees  adopt  an 
efficacious  mode  of  protecting  themselves ;  they 
embalm  their  offensive  enemy,  by  covering  him  over 
with  propolis  ;  both  Maraldi  and  Reaumur  have  seen 
this.  The  latter  observed  that  a  snail  had  entered  a 
hive,  and  fixed  itself  to  the  glass  side,  just  as  it  does 
against  walls,  until  the  rain  shall  invite  it  to  thrust 
out  its  head  beyond  its  shell.  The  bees,  it  seemed, 
did  not  like  the  interloper,  and  not  being  able  to  pe- 
netrate the  shell  with  their  sting,  took  a  hint  from 
the  snail  itself,  and  instead  of  covering  it  all  over 
with  propolis,  the  cunning  economists  fixed  it  im- 
moveably,  by  cementing  merely  the  edge  of  the  ori- 
fice of  the  shell  to  the  glass  with  this  resin,  and  thus 
it  became  a  prisoner  for  life,  for  rain  cannot  dissolve 
this  cement,  as  it  does  that  which  the  insect  itself 
uses.* 

*  When  they  expel  their  excrements,  they  go  apart  that  they  may  not 
defile  their  companions ;  and  in  winter,  when  prevented  by  extreme 
cold,  or  the  injudicious  practice  of  wholly  closing  the  hive,  from  going 
out  for  this  purpose,  their  bodies  sometimes  become  so  swelled  from 
the  accumulation  of  feces,  that  when  at  last  able  to  go  out,  they  cannot 
fly,  and  falling  on  the  ground  in  the  attempt,  they  perish  with  cold,  tho 
sacrifice  of  personal  neatness.— Kirby,  vol.  ii.  p.  200. 


NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  iv. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  HIVE  BEE. 

fertility  of  Queen  Bee — Swarming — Ventilation  of  the  Hive — Irasc** 
bility — Duels — Robberies — Defences  of  Bees. 

As  spring  advances,  the  losses  which  the  hive  has 
-sustained  in  the  autumn  and  winter  are  repaired.  The 
fertility  of  the  queen-mother  is  prodigious.  Schi.- 
rach  says,  that  in  the  course  of  one  season,  a  single 
female  will  lay  from  70,000  to  100,000  eggs.  Hu- 
ber  and  Reaumur's  estimate  is  not  so  high ;  but  the 
lowest  is  very  considerable :  hence  the  habitation  is 
soon  overpeopled,  and  it  becomes  necessary,  there- 
fore, that  thousands  should  quit  their  homes,  and 
lay  the  foundation  of  another  kingdom.  This  ex- 
patriation is  not  confined  to  the  young  brood,  who 
have  not  as  yet  laboured,  but  the  old;  they  who  with 
infinite  travail  had  already  constructed  one  city, 
yoluntarijy  Leave  all  they  have  done,  to  begin  life 
again. 

About  the  time  when  the  queen  lays  royal  eggs,  the 
workers  make  preparation  for  the  male  insects ;  con- 
sequently, males  and  females  appear  about  the  same 
period,  when  Providence  has  covered  the  surface  of 
the  earth  with  the  flowers  from  which  the  young  bee 
may  collect  its  food.  The  same  kind  hand  has  ap- 
pointed the  autumn,  when  the  fruit  is  ripe,  for  the 
:birth-t.ime  of  the  young  wasp. 

Sometimes  there  are  as  many  as  twenty  royal  cells, 
each  of  which  contains  a  queen.  The  natural  ha- 
tred  subsisting  between  female  bees  has  been  menr 
tioned,  but  this  passion,  apparently  so  vile  and  inju> 
£ ious,  is  the  means  by  which  the  species  is  saved,  and 


CH.  IV.]  THE  HIVE  BEE.  69 

its  instinctive  habits  perpetuated.  While  the  meta- 
morphosis of  the  young  queens  is  proceeding,  each 
cell  is  sedulously  surrounded  with  a  guard. 

As  soon  as  the  worm  is  transformed  into  a  nymph, 
and  not  before,  the  old  queen  becomes  infuriated. 
She  rushes  towards  the  royal  celis,  and  instantly  be- 
gins to  tear  them  open.  The  guards  make  way  for 
her,  and  allow  her  to  do  what  she  pleases.  As  the 
cells,  however,  are  considerably  thicker  than  those 
of  the  common  bee,  she  soon  exhausts  herself  by  her 
labour,  and  generally,  after  she  has  opened  one  or 
two  of  them,  and  most  barbarously  murdered  her 
own  offspring,  she  languidly  attempts  to  gnaw  at  a 
third.  The  sight  of  these  cells  agitates  her  to  such 
a  degree,  that  she  runs  about  the  hive  in  a  state  of  de- 
lirium. This  excitement  she  soon  communicates  to 
the  workers  by  touching  their  antennae,  and,  after 
scampering  about  in  all  directions,  a  great  portion  of 
them,  accompanied  by  their  old  queen,  rush  out  of 
the  hive  to  seek  another  home.  In  every  instance 
it  is  the  old  queen  which  leads  the  first  swarm.  Ex- 
perience enables  the  apiarists  to  foretel  this  event  : 
for,  on  the  evening  previous  to  swarming,  the  bees 
often  suddenly  leave  off  their  labours,  as  if  aware  of 
the  approaching  change ;  while  a  few  scouts  are  sent 
out  in  search  of  a  spot  fit  to  receive  the  new  colony. 
Something  very  like  concerted  action  and  foresight 
is  evident  in  these  proceedings.  But  after  every 
preliminary  step  for  departure  has  been  taken,  it  fre- 
quently happens  that  a  cloud,  obscuring  the  sun,  will 
put  an  end  to  their  plan,  and  cause  them  to  return 
peaceably  to  the  hive.  Instinct  here  is  so  closely 
allied  to  reason,  that  it  is  difficult  to  mark  the  distinc- 
tion. If  it  were  blind  impulse  that  drove  them  out 
of  their  hive,  why  do  they  change  their  purpose  ? 
Nay,  farther,  like  reasoning  beings  capable  of  erring, 
they  sometimes  make  a  false  judgment,  and  after 
hesitating,  actually  do  swann,  and  are  caught  in  the 
so  much  dreaded  shower. 


70  NATURAL  HIS!  OR V.  [cH.  IV. 

After  the  old  queen  is  gone,  the  bees  watch  the 
royal  cells ;  and  as  soon  as  the  worms  are  in  a  state 
to  become  nymphs,  they  close  them  up. 

It  is  to  be  remarked  that  this  operation  is  not  done 
to  every  cell  at  once ;  consequently,  the  young  queens 
are  of  various  ages :  indeed,  at  least  one  day  inter- 
venes between  the  laying  of  one  royal  egg  and  an- 
other. 

By  this  means,  several  queens  are  successively 
born,  and  several  swarms  thrown  off.  Had,  on  the 
contrary,  fifteen  or  sixteen  queens  appeared  at  the 
same  time  in  the  same  hive,  the  whole  number 
would  have  fallen  victims  to  their  own  passions. 

As  soon  as  a  young  queen  is  produced,  like  her 
mother,  she  proceeds  instantly  to  attack  the  other 
royal  cells ;  but  here  there  is  a  remarkable  differ- 
ence in  the  conduct  of  the  workers ;  for,  although 
they  permitted  their  ancient  queen  to  pursue  her  sove- 
reign pleasure,  they  by  no  means  extend  the  same 
courtesy  to  her  daughter ;  but  the  moment  she  at- 
tempts to  approach  a  cell,  the  guards  surrounding 
them  immediately  attack,  bite,  and  drive  her  off. 
She  then  runs  to  another,  and  is  treated  by  the  guards 
of  that  cell  in  a  similar  manner;  the  fury  of  her 
passion,  constantly  excited  by  the  sight  of  these 
•cells,  sends  her  in  a  state  of  fury  about  the  hive; 
•and  this,  as  in  the  other  cases,  is  communicated  to  a 
portion  of  the  workers,  and  they  all  quit  their  native 
habitation. 

In  this  way  several  swarms  will  issue  from  one 
hive  in  the  course  of  one  season.  This  seems  to 
explain  the  cause  of  the  very  undutiful  and  unusual 
treatment  which  the  queen  experiences  from  the 
workers,  They  know  that  several  queens  are  ne- 
cessary, and  accordingly  guard  against  the  effects 
of  that  antipathy  which,  by  destroying  the  royal 
orood,  would  prevent  swarming.  If  it  so  happen 
that  three  or  four  queens  should  appear  at  the  same 
,  or  before  the  redundant  population  which  had 


CH.  IV.]  THE  HIVE  BEE*  71 

left  the  hive  may  have  been  replaced  by  the  birth  of 
additional  workers,  the  bees  keep  them  prisoners  by 
shutting  up  the  cells  as  fast  as  the  young  queens  at- 
tempt to  bite  their  way  out.  In  this  way  some  of 
them,  when  set  at  liberty,  are  fit  for  immediate 
flight.  The  royal  prisoners,  however,  are  inerelv 
detained ;  for  when  they  pipe  for  food,  and  thrust 
their  proboscis  through  a  hole  in  the  cell,  made  just 
large  enough  for  that  purpose,  a  nurse-bee  standing 
by  instantly  supplies  them  with  honey 

In  the  attack  which  tike  young  queen  makes  on 
the  royal  cells,  irritated  by  the  maltreatment  of  those 
who  ought  to  pay  her  homage,  she  stands  upright, 
and  utters  a  shrill  and  clear  sound.  No  sooner  is 
this  piping  heard,  than  the  bees  are  immediately  pa- 
ralyzed :  they  remain  motionless,  and  hang  down 
their  heads.  Huber  and  others  have  remarked  this 
strange  effect  very  often.  She  then  proceeds  to  tear 
open  the  cells,  but,  in  doing  so,  ceases  to  pipe,  when 
the  bees,  recovering  from  their  stupor,  drive  her 
away.  Again  she  repeats  the  cry,  and  again  the 
same  effect  is  produced.  Hence  it  is  evident  that, 
during  the  swarming  season,  the  instinct  of  bees 
undergoes  considerable  modification:  for  when  they 
have  simply  lost  their  queen,  and  taken  measures  to 
replace  her,  by  building  royal  cells,  and  feeding  the 
grubs  of  common  workers,  in  the  manner  stated  by 
Schirachr  and  when  several  queens  make  their  ap- 
pearance, they  seem  to  excite  them  to  fight ;  and  the 
conqueror  is  chosen  their  monarch.  But  in.  the 
swarming  time,  as  just  detailed,  they  appear  aware 
that  a  plurality  of  queens  is  necessary  to  thin  the 
hive,  and,  in  consequence,  they  forget  their  habitual 
respect  for  the  female,  treat  her  roughly,  and  detain 
her  prisoner,  not  for  any  determinate  period,  but  as 
long  as  her  appearance  would  be  detrimental  to  their 
ends.  How  strangely  analogous  to  human  reason- 
ing and  calculation  is  this  !  What  simple  sensation 
can  make  the  bees  detain  one  queen  one  day,  an- 


72  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [ciI.  IV. 

other  five  days,  and  let  either  free  just  at  the  very 
moment  her  presence  becomes  essential  ?  Why, 
too,  do  they  allow  the  old  queen  to  open  the  royal 
cells,  and  slay  as  many  of  the  royal  nymphs  as 
she  has  strength  to  destroy,  at  the  very  time  that 
they  are  wanted,  while  they  bite  and  drive  away  a 
young-  queen,  who  might  attempt  the  same  thing '? 
One  would  almost  be  inclined  to  think,  that  the  habit 
of  obeying  the  old  queen — that  personal  attach- 
ment, or  something  not  unlike  it,  for  one  so  long 
known  to  them,  had  some  influence  upon  their  pro- 
ceedings. 

The  hive  is  always  warm,  and  the  bees  lessen  the 
heat  by  ventilation.  This  branch  of  duty  devolves 
on  workers  alone.  They  unite  their  wings  by  means 
of  their  marginal  hooks  into  one  piece,  and  then  flap 
them  up  and  down;  like  a  fan.  This  operation  pre- 
sents something  which  resembles  a  designed  combi- 
nation of  efforts,  for  it  is  not  carried  on  indiscrimi- 
nately in  all  parts  of  the  hive.  The  fanners  station 
themselves,  for  the  most  part,  at  the  bottom  of  the 
hive,  and  are  usually  ranged  in  files.  Some  are 
stationed  outside  of  the  hive ;  these  always  turn 
their  heads  towards  the  entrance;  others  are  sta- 
tioned within,  and  turn  theirs  in  the  opposite  direc- 
tion. Their  number  seldom  exceeds  twenty  at  a 
time ;  they  relieve  each  other,  and  the  operation  is 
never  remitted.  If  either  the  hand  or  wind-gauges 
be  held  at  the  entrance  of  a  bee-hive,  a  distinct  im- 
pression of  a  current  of  air,  now  acting,  now  subsid- 
ing, is  produced. 

After  the  hive  has  cast  off  several  swarms,  and 
no  more  remain  than  are  necessary  for  the  preserva- 
tion of  the  city,  the  bees  no  longer  evince  any  anx- 
iety about  the  rest  of  the  royal  brood ;  frit  allow  the 
rOyal  cells  to  be  torn  open  by  the  first-born  queen, 
and  either  drag  out  the  young  themselves,  if  worms, 
or  permit  them  to  be  killed,  if  nymphs. 

Such  is  a  brief  account  of  the  phenomena  of 


CH.  IV.J  THE   HIVE    BEE.  73 

swarming.  Huber  has  conjectured  that  the  imme- 
diate cause  of  it  lies  in  the  great  rise  of  temperature 
occasioned  in  the  hive  by  the  commotion  of  the 
workers.  This  heat  amounts  to  104°.  Tt  is 
usually  in  spring  from  90°  to  97°.  Perhaps  the 
conjecture  is  well-founded ;  but  this  agitation  occurs, 
independently  of  swarming,  from  the  loss  of  the 
queen,  and  yet  the  bees  do  not  think  of  quitting  their 
habitation. 

So  many  faculties  having  been  given  to  bees, 
enabling  them  to  provide  for  their  wants,  it  is  not 
likely  that  they  should  have  been  left  without  the 
means  of  defending  the  possession  of  whatever  is 
necessary  for  them. 

The  sting  by  which  this  little  animal  defends  it- 
self and  its  property  from  its  natural  enemies,  is  com- 
posed of  three  parts:  the  sheath  and  two  darts, 
which  are  extremely  small  and  penetrating.  Both 
the  darts  are  furnished  with  small  points  or  barbs, 
like  that  of  a  fish-hook,  which,  by  causing  the  wound 
inflicted  by  the  sting  to  rankle,  renders  it  more  pain- 
ful. Still  the  effect  of  the  sting  itself  would  be  but 
slight,  if  the  insect  were  not  provided  with  a  supply 
of  poisonous  matter,  which  it  injects  into  the  wound. 
The  sheath,  which  has  a  sharp  point,  makes  the 
first  impression;  this  is  followed  by  that  of  the  darts, 
and  then  the  venomous  liquor  is  poured  in.  The 
sheath  some  limes  sticks  so  fast  to  the  wound,  that 
the  insect  is  obliged  to  leave  it  behind ;  this  consi- 
derably augments  the  inflammation  of  the  wound, 
and  to  the  bee  itself  the  mutilation  proves  fatal. 
Were  it  not  for  the  protection  of  its  sting,  the  bee 
would  have  too  many  rivals  in  sharing  the  produce 
of  its  labours.  A  hundred  lazy  animals,  fond  of 
honey  and  hating  labour,  would  intrude  upon  the 
sweets  of  the  hive ;  and  for  want  of  armed  guar- 
dians to  protect  it,  this  treasure  would  become  the 
prey  of  worthless  depredators. 

In  Mungo  Park's  last  mission  to  Africa,  some  of 
I.— G 


74  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  IV. 

his  people,  having  disturbed  a  colony  of  these  ani- 
mals,  were  so  furiously  attacked,  that  both  man  and 
beast  were  put  to  instant  flight.  The  list  of  the 
killed  and  missing  amounted  to  one  horse  and  six 
asses — a  serious  loss  to  a  white  man  in  the  midst 
of  inhospitable  deserts. 

Lesser  tells  us,  that  in  1525,  during  the  confusion 
occasioned  by  a  time  of  war,  a  mob  of  peasants,  as- 
sembling in  Hoherstein,  attempted  to  pillage  the 
house  of  the  minister  of  Elende,  who  having  in  vain 
employed  all  his  eloquence  to  dissuade  them  from 
their  design,  ordered  his  domestics  to  fetch  his  bee- 
hives, and  throw  them  into  the  middle  of  the  infu- 
riated multitude.  The  effect  answered  his  expecta- 
tions :  they  were  immediately  put  to  flight,  and 
happy  were  those  who  escaped  unstung. 

It  sometimes  happens  that  a  young  swarm  choose 
to  enter  a  hive  already  occupied ;  when  a  most  des- 
perate conflict  ensues,  which  will  last  for  hours,  and 
even  for  days,  and  the  space  around  will  be  found 
covered  with  the  slain.  These  desperate  conflicts 
not  only  take  place  between  strangers,  but  also  be- 
tween inhabitants  of  the  same  hive — offspring  of  the 
same  mother.  The  causes  which  bring  division 
into  so  united  a  society  have  not  been  hitherto  as- 
certained. 

On  those  fine  spring  days  in  which  the  sun  is 
beautiful  and  warm,  duels  may  often  be  seen  to 
take  place  between  two  inhabitants  of  the  same 
hive.  In  some  cases,  the  quarrel  appears  to  have 
begun  within,  and  the  combatants  may  be  seen  com- 
ing out  of  the  gates  eager  "  for  blows."  Sometimes 
a  bee  peaceably  settled  on  the  outside  of  the  hive,  or 
walking  about,  is  rudely  jostled  by  another,  and 
then  the  attack  commences,  each  endeavouring  to 
obtain  the  most  advantageous  position.  They  turn, 
pirouette,  throttle  each  other;  and  such  is  their  bit- 
ter earnestness,  that  Reaumur  has  been  enabled  to 
come  near  enough  to  observe  them  with  a  lens  with- 


CH.  IV.]  THE  HIVE  BEE.  75 

out  causing  a  separation.  After  rolling  about  in 
the  dust,  the  victor,  watching-  the  time  when  its 
enemy  uncovers  his  body,  by  elongating  it,  in  the 
attempt  to  sting,  thrusts  its  weapon  between  the 
scales,  and  the  next  instant  its  antagonist  stretches 
out  its  quivering  wings,  and  expires.  A  bee  cannot 
be  killed  so  suddenly,  except  by  crushing,  as  by  the 
sting  of  another  bee.  Sometimes  the  stronger  in- 
sect produces  the  death  of  the  vanquished  by 
squeezing  its  chest.  After  this  feat  has  been  done, 
the  victorious  bee  constantly  remains,  says  Reamur, 
near  his  victim,  standing  on  his  four  front  legs,  and 
rubbing  the  two  posterior  ones  together.  Some- 
times the  enemy  is  killed  in  the  hive ;  then  the  vic- 
tor always  carries  the  corpse  out  of  the  city,  and 
leaves  it.  These  combats  are  strictly  duels,  not 
more  than  two  being  concerned  in  them ;  and  this 
is  even  the  case  when  armies  of  bees  meet  in 
combat. 

It  must  also  be  confessed,  that  however  inclined, 
naturally,  to  industrious  habits,  the  bee  will  turn 
thief,  if  it  cannot  obtain  food  by  its  own  labours. 
In  hives  which  are  ill  managed,  and  not  properly 
supplied  with  food,  the  bees,  instead  of  continuing 
a  well-constituted  civil  society,  become  a  formidably 
organized  band  of  robbers,  which  levy  contributions 
upon  the  neighbouring  hives.  At  first,  a  few  enter 
the  hive  by  stealth ;  their  numbers  are  then  gradu- 
ally augmented,  and  at  length  grown  more  bold,  an 
attack  en  masse  is  made,  and  a  bloody  battle  ensues. 
When  the  carnage  is  ended,  and  one  of  the  queens 
killed,  the  bees  unite  under  the  same  sovereign,  and 
the  vacated  hive  is  now  ransacked,  and  its  treasures 
conveyed  to  the  new  city. 

A  still  more  extraordinary  instance  of  aggression 
sometimes  occurs,  when  this  proverbially  indus- 
trious insect  does  not  disdain  to  rob  on  the  highway. 

Occasionally,  one  solitary  humble  bee,  which,  in 
its  instincts,  compared  with  the  hive  bee,  is  a  mere 


70  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [CH.  IV 

rustic,  may  be  seen  surrounded  by  four  or  five  of 
the  latter,  who  waylay  it  as  it  returns  towards  its 
nest  laden  with  honey.  They,  however,  do  not 
injure  it,  but  just  subject  it  to  that  degree  of  restraint 
and  uncomfortable  mauling-,  by  pommelling'  its 
chest,  and  pulling  its  legs,  which  obliges  it  to  unfold 
its  tongue  and  disgorge  its  honey.  The  robbers, 
one  after  another,  sip  from  the  honey;  and  when 
the  insect  has  been  thus  eased,  it  is  set  at  liberty. 

Sometimes,  a  sort  of  friendly  intercourse  takes 
place  between  two  hives.  Thus  the  inhabitants  of 
a  hive  belonging  to  Mr.  Knight,  used  to  visit  that  of 
a  cottager,  considerably  after  their  working-hours. 
Each  bee,  before  it  entered,  seemed  to  be  questioned. 
On  the  tenth  day,  however,  these  civilities  termi- 
nated  in  a  battle. 

Besides  this  just  exhibition  of  anger  in  defence 
of  their  lives  and  property,  there  are  times  in  which 
the  whole  hive  becomes  infuriated  against  certain 
members  of  their  own  community.  It  seems  as  if 
the  bees  are  such  rigid  economists,  that  whoever  is 
useless  must  be  got  rid  of.  Hence  the  massacre  of 
drones  or  male  bees ;  they  are  born  in  April  and 
May,  and  are  killed  in  August.  Huber  saw  them 
chased  from  corner  to  corner  of  the  hive,  till  at 
length  the  whole  were  huddled  together  at  its 
bottom,  and  there  massacred. 

This  murderous  work  was  going  on  at  the  very 
same  hour  in  six  different  hives,  clearly  showing 
that  it  is  not  an  effect  of  chance.  In  one  hive,  how- 
ever, in  which  the  fecundation  of  the  queen  had 
been  retarded,  so  that  nothing  but  drones  were  pro- 
duced, they  were  not  molested;  neither  are  they 
touched  in  hives  deprived  of  the  queen.  Hence,  the 
fury  of  the  bees  against  drones  is  connected  with 
some  principle  of  utility :  not  only  drones,  but  even 
workers  are  occasionally  slaughtered  by  their  com- 
rades: some  conjecture  this  to  take  place  on  ac- 
count of  their  old  age.  A  species  of  workers,  dif- 


CH.  IV.  J  THE    HIVE    BEE.  77 

fering  in  colour  from  the  rest,  and  supposed  to  be 
monstrous,  have  also  been  observed  to  be  relent- 
lessly massacred. 

It  is  not,  however,  by  force  alone  that  these  crea- 
tures defend  their  properties  and  hives  ;  they  possess 
invention  enough  to  rear  regular  fortifications  for 
protection.  Huber  once  discovered  that  great 
ravages  had  been  committed  upon  his  own  hives, 
and  he  also  learned  from  all  quarters,  that  a  similar 
calamity  had  befallen  those  of  his  neighbours.  At 
length  it  was  found,  that  the  destruction  which  had 
taken  place  had  been  caused  by  that  gigantic  moth, 
called  the  Sphinx  Atropos,  or  Death's  Head.  How 
an  animal  apparently  so  defenceless  should  have 
dared  to  enter,  and  then  to  do  what  it  was  found  to 
have  done,  is  still  a  matter  of  surprise.  It  is  con- 
jectured by  Huber,  that  the  sound  which  it  emits 
produces  effects  on  the  bees  similar  to  that  of  the 
queen ;  and  thus  disarms  them  of  the  power  of  re- 
sisting its  depredations.  It  is  clear,  however,  that 
in  the  daylight,  which  is  unnatural  to  the  sphinx, 
the  bees  can  kill  it ;  at  least,  they  did  so  in  an  ex- 
periment made  by  Huber. 

As  the  enterprises  of  the  sphinx  became  more 
and  more  fatal  to  the  bees,  Huber  determined  to 
construct  a  grating  which  should  admit  a  bee,  but 
not  the  moth.  He  did  so,  and  the  devastation 
ceased.  But  what  is  extraordinary,  he  found  that 
in  other  hives,  not  protected  by  human  ingenuity, 
the  bees  had  adopted  a  very  similar  expedient  for 
their  own  defence ;  and  to  add  still  more  to  the  won- 
der, these  defences  were  not  alike,  but  variously 
constructed  in  different  hives. 

"  Here,  was  a  single  wa.ll  whose  opening  arcades 
were  disposed  in  its  higher  parts :  there,  were  seve- 
ral bulwarks  behind  each  other,  like  the  bastions  of 
our  citadels ;  gateways,  masked  by  walls  in  front, 
opened  on  the  face  of  the  second  row,  while  they 
did  not  correspond  with  the  apertures  of  the  first 
G  g 


78  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [CH.  IV 

Sometimes  a  series  of  intersecting"  arcades  per 
mitted  free  egress  to  the  bees,  but  refused  admit- 
tance to  their  enemies.     These  fortifications  were 
massy  and  their  substance  firm  and  compact,  being 
composed  of  propolis  and  wax." 

When  the  entrance  of  their  hives  is  itself  re- 
stricted, or  care  is  taken  to  contract  it  soon  enough 
to  prevent  the  devastation  of  their  enemies,  bees 
dispense  with  walling  themselves  in.  Here,  then, 
we  have  the  invention  and  adaptation  of  means  to 
a  proposed  end. 

Nothing  is  more  calculated  to  convince  us  that 
animals  are  not  mere  machines,  than  seeing  them 
varying  their  proceedings  according  to  circum- 
stances. Even  their  mistakes  and  irregularities 
cause  us  to  doubt  the  doctrine,  that  all  their  actions 
are  the  result  of  organization.  Of  this,  bees  furnish 
abundant  instances. 

"The  geometrical  regularity  with  which  the 
labours  of  bees  are  conducted,"  observes  Bonnet, 
"has  been  justly  celebrated ;  it  requires,  however, 
but  little  observation  to  perceive  much  variety  in 
the  construction  of  the  cells — and  this  is  some- 
times so  remarkable  as  to  strike  the  most  careless 
observer.  Some  of  them  are  circular,  and  some 
elliptical,  instead  of  the  usual  hexagonal  form. 
The  bottoms  of  the  cells  show  also  considerable 
irregularities.  It  often  happens,  that  instead  of 
being  constructed  in  the  usual  manner,  of  three 
lozenge-shaped  pieces,  they  are  formed  of  four,  five, 
or  six  pieces,  of  a  shape  more  or  less  irregular,  but 
which  approach  a  quadrilateral  form  or  square,  more 
nearly  than  any  other  figure.  The  dimensions  of 
the  common  cells  are  still  more  various  than  their 
opening  or  their  base.  The  cells  are  usually  about 
five  lines*  in  depth;  but  I  have  seen  some  more  than 
eighteen  lines  deep.  These  unusually  long  cells 

*  A  line  is  the  twelfth  part  of  an  incU, 


CH.  IV.]  THE    HIVE    BEE.  79 

have  always  one  of  their  sides  towards  the  side  of 
the  hive.  They  serve  only  to  hold  honey  wanted 
for  the  daily  consumption  of  the  little  republic ;  and 
the  queen  has  never  been  seen  laying  her  eggs  in  any 
cells  of  this  kind.  The  cells  are  usually  horizontal ; 
but  the  long  cells  just  mentioned  are  frequently  in- 
clined towards  the  horizon." 

It  has  been  already  stated,  that  when  the  grubs 
of  bees  are  about  to  be  transformed  into  nymphs, 
the  workers  carefully  close  up  the  cells  in  which 
they  are  lodged  with  a  lid.  This  precaution  is  ne- 
cessary, in  order  that  their  transformation  should 
be  effected  in  security.  The  lid  used  for  this  pur- 
pose is  in  some  degree  convex,  and  never  flat  like 
the  lids  which  shut  up  the  honey-cells ;  and  by  this 
means  the  breeding  cells  may  always  be  distin- 
guished from  the  honey-cells.  When  a  cell  has 
been  thus  closed  up,  the  grub  sets  about  lining  the 
whole  of  its  walls ;  this  operation  requires  that  it 
should  move :  hence  it  is  necessary  that  the  cell 
should  be  neither  too  narrow  nor  too  short,  to  allow 
it  to  move  freely.  A  swarm,  which  Bonnet  had 
placed  in  a  very  flat  glass  hive,  had  constructed  a 
large  comb,  running  parallel  with  one  of  the  sides 
of  the  hive ;  but  because  the  space  was  narrow,  the 
bees  had  not  been  able  to  give  the  cells  the  usual 
depth.  These  were  common  cells;  nevertheless, 
the  queen  did  not  omit  laying  in  them;  and  the 
workers  fed  the  grubs  which  proceeded  from  these 
eggs.  Nor  did  they  fail  to  shut  up  the  cells  when 
the  grubs  were  on  the  point  of  being  transformed. 

Some  days  after  they  had  been  so  shut  up,  holes 
were  observed  in  the  lids,  more  or  less  in  diameter, 
through  which  a  part  of  the  body  of  each  worm 
had  protruded.  It  appeared  that  the  cells  had  not 
the  necessary  depth,  and  that  the  grubs,  finding 
themselves  too  much  hampered  for  room,  had 
pushed  roughly  against  the  lids,  from  which  they 
had  detached  pieces  of  various  sizes.  It  was  in- 


80  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [CH.  IV. 

teresting  to  watch  what  steps  the  bees  would  take 
in  this  emergency.  Bonnet  expected  to  find  that 
they  would  have  taken  the  grubs  out  of  the  cells,  as 
they  do  when  the  combs  happen  to  be  greatly  de- 
ranged; but  in  this  he  was  deceived,  and  he  found 
that  he  had  by  no  means  correctly  calculated  the 
resources  which  instinct  placed  at  their  command. 
They  did  not  take  out  a  single  grub;  they  left  them 
all  in  the  cells  which  they  occupied:  but  because 
the  cells  were  not  deep  enough,  they  shut  them  up 
with  lids  somewhat  more  convex  than  usual;  and 
thus  found  means  to  add  to  each  cell  the  depth 
which  it  wanted.  In  this  manner  the  grubs  were 
placed  at  their  ease;  no  openings  were  afterward 
perceived  in  the  lids ;  only  the  interval  between  the 
comb  and  the  glass  hive  was  by  this  means  so  nar- 
rowed that  the  bees  could  hardly  pass  through  it. 

Some  philosophers  have  maintained  that  bees  and 
other  social  insects  act  merely  from  sensation ;  that 
their  sensorium  is  so  modelled  that  they  are  im- 
pelled by  a  sensation  of  pleasure  alone  to  the  acts 
which  it  is  their  destiny  to  perform ;  that  the  suc- 
cession of  their  different  labours  is  preordained  by 
the  Creator ;  and  a  pleasurable  sensation  attached 
to  the  performance  of  each  task :  and  that,  conse- 
quently, when  they  build  cells, — when  they  sedu- 
lously attend  to  the  young  brood, — when  they  col- 
lect provisions,  these  proceedings  evince  no  plan, 
no  affection,  no  foresight;  but  that  the  enjoyment 
of  an  agreeable  sensation  is  the  sole  influencing 
motive  which  leads  to  the  perform  nice  of  each  of 
these  operations.  But  "  surely,"  observes  Kirby 
"  it  would  be  better  to  resolve  all  their  proceedings 
at  once  into  a  direct  impulse  from  the  Creator,  than 
to  maintain  a  theory  so  contrary  to  fact,  and  which 
militates  against  the  whole  history  which  M.  Huber, 
who  adopts  this  theory  from  Bonnet,  has  so  ab]y 
given  of  these  creatures."  That  their  various  em- 
ployments may  afford  them  agreeable  sensations, 


¥     ^  ^  ' 

t,rt       <     fetf 

CH.  FT.]  THE  HIVE  BEE.  81 

is  a  fact  which  need  not  be  disputed :  but  that  the^y 
act  merely  from  the  impulse  of  these  sensations, 
without  any  plan  previously  concerted,  seems  to  be 
contradictory  both  to  reason  and  inference.  That 
their  proceedings  are  conducted  upon  a  plan  which 
does  not  result  from  mere  sensation,  is  proved  by 
the  fact  that  they  vary  their  proceeding's  accord- 
ing to  circumstances.  Their  well-known  irasci- 
bility leaves  no  room  to  doubt  that  they  are  sus- 
ceptible of  the  passion  of  anger;  and  that  they  are 
liable  to  be  acted  on  by  fear  and  alarm  is  universally 
acknowledged :  and,  admitting  them  to  be  suscep- 
tible of  anger  and  fear,  it  does  seem  unreasonable 
to  infer  that  they  are,  at  the  same  time,  incapable 
of  feeling  affection.  Farther,  the  precautions  which 
they  are  known  to  adopt,  to  prevent  and  ward  off 
any  evils  which  seem  to  threaten  them,  also  prove 
that  they  possess  a  certain  degree  of  foresight. 
Without  rivalling  man  either  in  intellect  or  feeling, 
they  may  be  endowed  with  that  measure  of  each 
which  is  necessary  for  their  purposes. 

After  all,  the  moving  principle  which  impels  and 
regulates  the  proceedings  of  the  social  tribes  of 
insects,  is  involved  in  a  depth  of  mystery  which, 
with  all  our  boasted  advantages,  we  in  vain  attempt 
to  fathom :  the  motives  which  urge  them  to  fulfil, 
in  so  remarkable,  though  diversified  a  way,  their 
different  destinies,  baffle  the  researches  of  human 
sagacity.  But  however  impenetrable  may  be  the 
veil  which  conceals  these  mysteries  from  our  sight, 
one  thing  is  clear  to  demonstration, — that  these 
creatures  and  their  instincts  loudly  proclaim  the 
power,  wisdom,  and  goodness  of  the  GREAT  FATHER 
of  the  universe,  and  prove,  beyond  all  cavil  and 
doubt,  the  existence  of  a  superintending  Providence, 
which  watches  with  incessant  care  over  the  welfare 
of  the  meanest  of  his  creatures. 


82  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [cH. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    HUMBLE    BEE. 

Builds  her  own  Habitation— Curious  Division  of  Labour — Remarkable 
for  Good-nature  and  Affection  for  her  Young — Ingenuity  in  over- 
coming Difficulties— The  Carpenter-Bee— The  Mason-Bee— The  Up- 
holsterer-Bee. 

THERE  are  other  sorts  of  bees,  whose  history  is 
less  imposing  perhaps,  but  not  less  curious,  than 
that  of  the  species  which  has  been  just  detailed: 
some  of  these  live  in  societies ;  but  their  limited 
number,  and  the  rudeness  of  their  dwellings,  when 
compared  with  the  populousness,  the  order,  and 
architecture  of  the  hive,  make  us  feel  that  we  are 
contemplating  a  village,  after  having  seen  a  large 
metropolis.  The  contrast,  however,  is  interesting ; 
and  a  true  philosopher,  after  he  has  marked  the 
manners  of  a  civilized  kingdom,  always  finds  his 
knowledge  enlarged  by  the  observation  of  the  sim- 
pler habits  of  the  rustic,  or  even  the  ruder  customs 
of  the  savage.  The  Humble  Bee,  so  well  known  to 
us,  may  be  truly  termed  a  villager.  The  community, 
which  numbers  from  twenty  to  three  hundred,  con- 
sists of  females  of  two  sizes,  the  very  largest,  and 
the  small  ones;  males  which  are  stingless,  and 
neuters.  There  is  a  jealousy  between  the  small 
and  large  females,  but  it  does  not  appear  that  it  is 
of  so  deadly  a  nature  as  that  which  prevails  among 
the  hive  bees.  Indeed,  Reaumur  says,  that  the 
large  ones  live  peaceably  together  in  the  same  nest. 
Like  true  rustics  they  are  all  born  to  labour.  Here 
there  is  no  queen  attended  by  a  numerous  guard, 
enjoying  the  privilege  of  doing  nothing  except  lay- 
ing eggs, — nor  idle  males,  subsisting  upon  the  fruits 
of  the  industry  of  others ;  but,  whether  male,  female, 
or  neuter,  they  all  share  alike  the  common  labour. 


CH.  V.]  THE  HUMBLE  DEE.  83 

It  is  very  probable,  that,  alone  and  unattended, 
the  female  lays  the  foundation  of  the  future  little 
village,  and  that  its  inhabitants  are  all  her  own  off- 
spring. The  hive  bee  must  have  a  ready-made  ex- 
cavation for  the  reception  of  its  comb — the  humble 
bee  raises  its  dwelling  from  the  foundation.  There 
is  nothing  imposing  in  its  exterior :  on  the  contrary, 
a  tuft  of  moss,  six  or  seven  inches  high,  and  buried 
seemingly  in  a  clod,  conceals  all  that  is  dear  to  these 
little  creatures.  A  closer  inspection  shows,  that  the 
mossy  filaments  are  carefully  interlaced,  and  so 
nicely  put  together,  that  not  a  grain  of  dirt  is  inter- 
mingled with  its  texture.  This  light  vault,  although 
two  or  three  inches  thick,  is  scarcely  capable  of 
sheltering  the  young  from  the  wind  and  rain ;  and 
to  remedy  this  defect,  its  inner  or  concave  surface 
is  lined  with  a  species  of  cement  which  effectually 
excludes  the  wet.  If  a  nest  be  watched,  one  of  its 
inhabitants  will  be  soon  seen  to  bury  itself  in  a 
mossy  hole,  perhaps  a  foot  from  the  nest  itself. 
This  is  the  entrance  of  a  covered  and  secret  way, 
leading  to  the  inside  of  the  habitation.  Should  the 
curiosity  of  the  observer  overcome  his  reluctance  to 
destroy  the  patient  labour  of  the  humble  bee,  he  will 
have  an  opportunity  of  observing  the  mode  in  which 
it  works.  The  nest  is  always  placed  in  the  midst 
of  the  material  from  which  it  is  to  be  constructed, 
and  Reaumur  never  was  able  to  detect  any  of  its 
inhabitants  bringing  moss  from  a  distance :  rather 
than  do  so,  the  bee  repairs  the  vault  with  material 
taken  from  the  covered  way,  and  even  choosing  to 
do  without  it  altogether,  rather  than  forage  for  moss. 
In  some  instances  they  seem  to  be  led  by  instinct  to 
vary  their  proceedings.  Thus,  Mr.  P.  Huber,  having 
placed  a  nest  of  humble  bees  under  a  bell-shaped 
glass,  stuffed  the  interval  between  its  bottom  and 
the  irregular  surface  on  which  it  rested  with  a  linen 
cloth :  the  bees,  finding  themselves  in  a  situation 
where  no  moss  was  to  be  obtained,  tore  this  cloth 


84  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [cH.  ?. 

thread  by  thread,  carded  it  with  their  feet  into  a  felted 
mass,  and  applied  it  to  the  same  uses  as  moss,  for 
which  it  proved  an  excellent  substitute.  Some  other 
humble  bees  tore  the  cover  of  a  book  with  which  he 
had  closed  the  top  of  a  box  which  contained  them, 
and  made  use  of  the  detached  morsels  in  covering 
their  nests. 


Mrw^« 


They  divide  their  labour  in  a  curious  manner.  A 
bee  settles  on  a  tuft  of  moss,  its  head  being  turned 
from  the  nest,  and  its  tail  towards  it :  with  its  teeth 
and  its  first  two.  legs  it  divides  and  disentangles  the 
filaments,  and  transfers  them  to  the  two  middle  legs ; 
the  second  pair  seize  and  push  them  to  the  third  pair, 
and  these  thrust  them  as  far  behind  the  tail  of  the 
bee  as  they  can  reach,  by  which  means  the  moss  is 
advanced  towards  the  place  where  it  is  proposed  to 
build  the  nest,  by  a  space  which  somewhat  exceeds 
the  whole  length  of  the  body  of  one  bee ;  another 
bee,  placed  in  a  line  with  the  first,  receives  the  ball 
of  material  with  its  fore-legs,  and  like  the  first,  trans- 
fers it  the  whole  length  of  its  body ;  and  thus  four 
or  five  of  these  insects,  stationed  in  a  row,  spare 
time  and  labour  in  conveying  the  material  for  build- 
ing, on  the  same  principle  that  Irish  labourers  may 
be  seen  transferring  their  wheelbarrows  from  one  to 
another. 

The  inside  of  the  nest  contains  a  comb  or  combs, 
which  show  no  trace  of  the  geometrical  principles 
recognised  in  the  workmanship  of  the  hive  bee. 
The  upper  surface  of  each  comb  is  irregularly  con- 
vex, its  under  concave,  and  it  is  composed  of  oval 
eminences  placed  against  each  other  (fig.  1 ,  a) ,  These 


CH.  V.]  THE  HUMBLE  BEE.  85 


Fig.  1.  a.  Cocoon. 

b.  The  receptacles  for  egg.9. 

c.  Honey  pots. 

are  not  cells  for  the  young1,  as  in  the  comb  of  the 
hive-bee,  but  cocoons  spun  by  the  larva  before  its 
final  metamoiphosis.  By  the  sides  of  these  oval 
bodies,  and  sometimes  covering1  and  concealing  them, 
are  deposited  ill-shaped  masses  (Jig.  1,  6),  which 
constitute  the  chief  object  of  the  labour  of  these  rus- 
tics. These  are  the  receptacles  for  the  eggs  of  the 
female,  and  contain  not  one  egg  only,  but  sometimes 
as  many  as  thirty  eggs  (fig.  2).  They  are  filled 
with  a  species  of  bee-bread,  formed  of  the  pollen  of 
flowers,  moistened  and  prepared  by  the  bee,  so  that 
the  young  worm,  when  hatched,  is  surrounded  with 
a  mass  of  matter  which  serves  the  double  purpose  of 
food  and  raiment,  nourishing  and  keeping  it  from  ex- 
ternal impressions.  Besides  these  receptacles  of 
eggs,  the  nest  contains  also  open  cylindrical  vessels, 
which  are  filled  with  excellent  honey,  destined  for 
the  common  supply.  The  humble  bee,  by-the-way, 
has  a  much  finer  instinct  in  discovering  the  nectar 
of  flowers  than  the  hive  bee ;  for  in  many  flowers 
the  nectary  is  concealed  from  the  hive  bee  ;  the  hum- 
ble bee,  however,  finds  it  out,  and  taps  it  in  the  same 
manner  as  a  butler  gets  at  the  contents  of  a  cask. 
In  this  case,  the  hive  bee,  like  the  cunning1  inhabitant 
of  a  city,  allows  the  rustic  to  gather  the  treasure, 
and  then  waylays  and  robs  it  of  its  load. 
I.— H  ' 


86  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [cH.  V 

Huber  relates  a  curious  story  to  illustrate  the 
good-nature  and  generous  disposition  of  the  humble 
bee.  In  a  time  of  scarcity,  some  hive  bees,  after 
pillaging  the  nest  of  the  humble  bee,  took  entire  pos- 
session of  it :  one  or  two,  however,  of  the  latter  still 
lingered  about  their  old  habitation,  and  went  into 
the  fields  to  collect  honey,  which  they  brought  home  ; 
the  hive  bees  surrounded,  licked  them,  and  presented 
to  them  their  proboscis,  never  once  showing  the 
sting.  By  these  means,  Huber  is  of  opinion,  that 
the  humble  bee  was  fairly  wheedled  out  of  its  stock 
of  honey :  these  manoeuvres  lasted  three  weeks. 

Their  affection  for  their  young  is  remarkable. 
When  about  to  lay  her  eggs,  the  female  is  obliged 
to  watch  with  the  utmost  care,  and  to  drive  off  the 
workers,  who  greedily  endeavour  to  devour  them. 
Kirby  thinks  this  instinct  is  bestowed  upon  the  in- 
sect for  the  purpose  of  keeping  the  population  within 
due  bounds.  For  six  or  eight  hours  the  cell  con- 
taining her  precious  charge  is  anxiously  watched  by 
the  mother ;  but,  after  this  period,  the  desire  to  de- 
vour the  egg  ceases  to  animate  the  workers,  and 
they  now  appear  as  assiduous  in  preserving,  as  they 
were  before  eager  to  destroy,  the  young.  They 
know  to  the  hour  when  the  food  is  consumed  by  the 
grub,  and  introduce  a  fresh  supply  through  a  small 
hole  made  in  the  receptacle,  which  is  then  carefully 
closed.  As  the  grubs  increase  in  size,  the  cell  which 
contained  them  becomes  too  small;  and  by  their 
exertions  to  be  more  at  ease  its  thin  sides  are  split. 
The  workers,  which  stand  constantly  by  to  watch 
when  their  services  may  be  wanted,  apply  a  patch 
of  wax  to  fill  up  these  breaches  as  fast  as  they  are 
made.  The  cells  are  thus  daily  increased  in  size, 
in  order  to  accommodate  the  growing  grub.  When 
the  larva  is  about  to  change  into  the  pupa,  the 
workers  cluster  over  the  cocoon,  and  thus  cherish  the 
tender  inhabitant  with  that  heat  which  is  necessary 
to  its  existence.  Mr*  P.  Huber  put  a  dozen  humble 


CH.  V.]  THE  CARPENTER  BEE.  87 

bees  under  a  glass  case,  and  gave  them  a  piece  of 
comb  composed  of  ten  silken  cocoons,  so  uneven 
that  it  had  no  foundation  on  which  it  could  rest 
firmly.  The  bees  were  sorely  disquieted,  as  they 
could  not,  on  account  of  the  unsteadiness  of  the 
comb,  cluster  on  the  young.  Their  affection  sug- 
gested, however,  an  ingenious  expedient.  Several 
of  them  mounted  upon  the  comb,  and  fixing  their 
hindennost  feet  on  its  edge,  and  the  foremost  on  the 
table,  they  succeeded  in  rendering  the  mass  suffi- 
ciently steady  to  allow  their  comrades  to  cluster  on 
the  cocoons.  For  three  days  sets  relieved  each 
other ;  at  the  end  of  which  time  they  had  prepared 
wax  enough  to  build  pillars  to  fix  the  comb.  By 
some  accident  these  pillars  were  displaced,  when 
the  affectionate  creatures  resorted  a  second  time  to 
the  same  means,  and  assumed  the  same  constrained 
posture.  At  last,  compassionating  their  distress, 
Huber  did  that  for  them  which  they  had  been  endea- 
vouring so  earnestly  to  do  for  themselves.  It  has 
been  very  naturally  asked,  "  If,  in  this  instance, 
these  little  animals  were  not  guided  by  a  process 
of  reasoning  ?"  If  this  question  be  answered  in  the 
negative,  it  would  be  difficult  to  show  the  difference 
between  reason  and  instinct :  for  it  may  be  assumed 
as  a  certainty,  that  the  circumstances  under  which 
our  rustics  were  placed  had  never  occurred  to  them 
during  the  course  of  their  short  existence,  nor  proba- 
bly to  ten  of  their  species  since  the  creation. 

There  are  some  species  of  bees  which  lead  a  soli- 
tary life,  and  seem  to  exercise  a  mechanical  art. 
The  first  of  these  performs  the  labours  of  a  carpen- 
ter, the  next  those  of  a  mason,  and  the  third  may  be 
termed  the  upholsterer.  The  wood-boring  or  car- 
penter-bee is  almost  as  large  as  the  humble  bee,  not  so 
downy,  but  more  deeply  coloured.  In  spring  it 
seeks  out  for  some  old  post  or  withered  part  of  a 
tree,  to  begin  its  habitation — sedulously  shunning 
the  sappy  and  green  wood,  which  probably  from  its 


88  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  V. 

toughness  would  not  suit  its  purpose.  The  position, 
as  well  as  the  quality  of  the  substance  is  also  taken 
into  consideration ;  for  it  will  not  select  a  piece  of 
wood  placed  in  a  spot  where  the  sun  rarely  shines. 
As  soon  as  a  piece  of  dry  rotten  wood  is  found,  our 
workman  begins  to  bore  in  an  oblique  direction  (fig. 
1),  and  after  having  gone  to  a  certain  depth,  the  di- 


rection of  the  cavity  is  changed,  and  is  now  conti- 
nued in  the  wood  in  an  axis  perpendicular  to  the 
horizon.  This  is  a  work  which  occupies  our  labour- 
ers not  a  few  hours,  but  weeks.*  For  days  together 
the  carpenter-bee  may  be  seen  going  in  and  out  of 
the  hole,  and  shovelling  out  the  sawdust,  which  has 
resulted  from  its  patient  labour.  The  cavity  is  from 
twelve  to  fifteen  inches  in  length,  and  often  broad 

*  This,  assuredly,  is  a  great  work  for  a  bee,  since  it  is  not  finished  in 
a  day.  The  insect  is  occupied  about  it  for  weeks,  and  even  for  months. 
—REAUMUR,  vol.  vi.  p.  42. 


THE  CARPENTER  BEE.  89 

enough  to  admit  the  forefinger  of  a  man.  A  single 
bee  will  make  two  or  three  of  these  holes  in  the 
course  of  the  season.  After  the  length  has  been  deter- 
mined, the  tube  is  divided  into  about  twelve  compart- 
ments, each  of  which  is  destined  to  receive  an  egg. 
The  bottom  of  the  tube  forms  the  base  of  the  first 
compartment.  In  this  the  bee  piles  up  a  quantity 
of  bee-bread  till  it  reaches  about  an  inch  in  height ; 
upon  the  surface  of  this  one  egg  is  laid,  and  over  the 
whole  mass  a  roof  is  formed,  which  serves  as  a  cover 
to  the  bottom  division,  and  a  floor  for  the  next  above 
it.  Each  of  the  partition  planks  is  about  the  thick- 
ness of  a  crown-piece.  It  is  to  be  observed,  that, 
in  partitioning  off  the  cells,  the  bee  follows  a  system- 
atic plan,  and  that  a  curious  one.  It  begins  by  glu- 
ing the  particles  of  sawdust  round  the  outside  of  the 
cavity,  so  as  to  make  an  annular  projection.  Inside 
this  ring  she  glues  more,  and  thus  she  gradually 
works  from  the  circumference  towards  the  centre ; 
at  last,  a  covering  of  concentrical  circles  of  sawdust 
is  formed  (fig*  2). 

Having  completed  her  first  cell,  and  deposited  an 
egg  in  it,  she  now  proceeds  to  form  another  heap  of 
bee-bread  on  the  annular  horizontal  partition,  and, 
depositing  a  second  egg,  she  covers  it  with  a  similar 
roof  of  glue  and  sawdust ;  a  second  cell  being  finished, 
she  continues  her  labours  until  the  whole  excavated 
space  has  been  filled  up  by  a  series  of  cells.  The 
insect  not  only  knows  the  figure  and  capacity  of  each 
of  the  cells  necessary  to  accommodate  her  young, 
but  much  more :  she  knows  the  exact  quantity  of 
aliment  which  the  grub  will  consume  from  the  mo- 
ment of  its  birth  to  the  period  of  its  maturity  ;  and 
deposites  precisely  that  supply  which  it  will  want, 
from  its  tenderest  state  to  the  time  when  it  shall 
come  out  as  perfect  as  herself. 

It  will  be  recollected  that  the  hive  bee  is  furnished 
with  a  species  of  basket  to  carry  home  the  pollen 
collected  in  the  fields.  The  wood-boring  bee,  being 
H2 


90  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [dl.  V. 

destitute  of  this  apparatus,  makes  use  of  a  different 
contrivance  to  convey  provender  to  its  nest.  "I 
observed,"  says  Reaumur,  "several  of  these  in- 
sects walking  in  the  little  forest  of  stamina  which 
surrounds  the  flower  of  the  poppy;  by  their  bulk 
and  weight  they  upset  and  pressed  down  all  the  fila- 
ments which  crossed  their  path ;  during-  their  pro- 
gress, their  hind  legs  became  covered  with  the 
pollen  or  yellow  dust  which  adhered  to  the  downy 
hairs  on  their  surface.  After  they  had  buried  them- 
selves successively  in  several  flowers,  each  of  the 
last  pair  of  legs  appeared  as  if  enveloped  in  a  foot- 
less boot."  With  this  load  the  insect  flew  to  the 
nest,  brushed  off  the  pollen  adhering  to  its  legs, 
which,  mixed  and  tempered  with  a  proper  supply  of 
honey,  was  then  deposited  in  the  cell. 

Each  of  the  circles  visible  in  the  piece  of  wood 
marks  a  pause  in  the  labours  of  the  architect ;  and 
the  sum  of  their  number  bears  testimony  to  that  in- 
defatigable industry  which  formed  them,  grain  by 
grain,  into  a  solid  mass. 

The  sawdust  used  for  this  purpose  is  a  portion  of 
that  which  the  insect  had  thrown  out  while  exca- 
vating the  tube.  When  shovelled  out  by  the  bee,  it 
falls  on  the  ground,  and  forms  a  little  heap  near  the 
plank  or  piece  of  dry  wood  in  which  the  insect  is  at 
work.  When  the  ingenious  little  carpenter  wants 
materials  to  form  the  partitions  between  the  differ- 
ent compartments  in  the  tube,  it  issues  forth,  alights 
upon  this  heap  of  sawdust,  selects  a  grain  of  this 
dust,  and  flies  away  with  it  to  the  interior  of  the 
cavity.  This  proceeding  is  regularly  repeated  until 
the  whole  work  has  been  completed. 

From  the  order  in  which  the  eggs  are  placed,  it 
follows,  that  the  worms  are  of  different  ages  in  the 
different  cells ;  consequently  the  lowest  emerge  the 
first.  But  how  is  it  to  get  out  ?  Does  it  wait  till 
all  those  above  it  have  escaped  from  their  cells  ? 
A  provision  is  made  for  this  emergency.  The  larvae, 


CH.  V.]  THE  MASON-BEE.  91 

or  grubs,  are  placed  with  their  heads  downwards, 
so  that,  as  the  first  effort  to  walk  is  forwards,  their 
progress  is  not  towards  the  superior  cells.  The 
mother-bee  makes  a  hole  at  the  bottom  of  the  tube 
(Communicating'  with  the  lowest  cell,  and  through 
this  opening  the  inhabitant  comes  out.  When  the 
food  in  the  cell  next  above  is  consumed,  its  tenant 
gnaws  away  its  under  partition,  and  then,  through 
the  cell  which  has  been  just  vacated,  finds  the  way 
clear  to  the  outlet  made  by  the  mother.  Hence  it 
appears,  that  all  the  young  come  out  through  this 
back  door,  which  is  provided  for  them  by  their 
anxious  parent 

Natural  history,  abounding  as  it  does  in  the  most 
interesting  facts,  presents  few  things  more  striking 
than  the  industry  of  this  insect.  Consider  its  la- 
bour— boring  out  a  tunnel  fifteen  or  twenty  times 
its  own  height ;  descending  and  then  ascending  to 
carry  off  the  sawdust,  and  then,  after  having  cleaned 
out  the  tube  thoroughly,  returning1  to  this  heap  of 
sawdust,  and  collecting,  grain  by  grain,  a  sufficient 
quantity  to  partition  off  the  number  of  nurseries 
which  its  young  may  require. 

Lumps  of  mortar  may  frequently  be  seen  stuck 
against  a  garden- wall,  exposed  to  the  sun;  when- 
ever an  attempt  happens  to  be  made  to  remove 
them,  they  will  be  found  to  resist  the  impression  of 
the  strongest  knife.  These  have  not  been  formed 
by  a  careless  bricklayer,  who  may  have  left  a  dab 
of  his  material  to  disfigure  the  wall.  Each  lump  is 
the  work  of  care,  and  constitutes  the  habitation  of 
the  mason-bee.  One  of  these  lumps,  when  de- 
tached from  the  wall,  will  be  found  to  contain  eight 
or  ten  cavities,  in  each  of  which  is  deposited  a  larva 
with  its  supply  of  food.  At  first  sight  these  cells 
might  be  imagined  simply  bored  in  the  lump ;  and 
truly,  in  giving  solidity  to  its  workmanship,  this  bee 
may,  indeed,  be  said  to  conceal  the  skill  which  it 
has  exercised. 


92 


NATURAL  HISTORY. 


[CH.  V 


a  A  cell  with  the  cocoon. 

b  Ditto. 

c  A  cell  in  which  the  worm  has  not  spun  its  cocoon;  the  excrements 

are  seen  in  black  dots. 
d  A  cell  from  which  the  perfect  insect  has  escaped. 

As  soon  as  the  mason-bee  has  discovered,  in  some 
old  wall,  a  site  suitable  for  its  future  habitation,  it 
sets  about  collecting  the  material  requisite  for  its 
construction.  This  material  is  a  mortar  chiefly  com- 
posed of  sand.  The  insect  seems  to  be  well  aware 
that  all  kinds  of  sand  are  not  equally  calculated  to 
produce  good  cement :  the  grains  must  neither  be 
too  large  nor  too  fine.  The  little  creature,  there- 
fore, takes  especial  care  to  select,  grain  by  grain, 
what  may  suit  its  purpose ;  a  few  such  grains  only 
being  apparently  contained  in  a  heap  of  sand,  the 
whole  of  which  a  human  plasterer  would  willingly 
appropriate  to  the  execution  of  his  work.  "  I  can- 
not understand,"  says  Reaumur,  "  why  the  mason- 
bee  did  not  at  once  take  the  whole  of  its  load  from  that 
part  of  the  gravel  walk  on  which  it  had  first  settled. 
Having  'collected  a  few  grains  on  one  spot,  it  flew 
off  and  alighted  0:1  another:  but,  for  my  part,  I 
could  not  see  that  the  gravel  of  one  spot  differed  in 
the  slightest  degree  from  that  of  the  other;  both 
places  abounding  in  large  and  small  grains,  inas- 
much as  the  whole  walk  was  covered  with  the  same 
kind  of  sand.  Hence  I  infer  that  this  insect  pos- 


CH.  V.]  THE    MASON-BEE.  93 

sesses  some  sense  which  enables  it  to  discover  ad- 
vantageous   peculiarities    of    form  which    escape 
human  observation."    It  felt  each  grain  with  its 
strong  teeth :  it  did  not,  however,  carry  them  off 
one  by  one ;  this  would  have  occasioned  a  waste  of 
time  inconsistent  with  its  usual  habits  of  economy: 
it  contrived  to  collect  together  a  sufficient  number 
of  grains  to  form  a  heap  of  the  size  of  a  small  shot, 
and  cemented    the    mass  together  with  a  viscid 
liquor  ejected  upon  it  from  the  mouth.     With  the 
gravel  and  cement  it  mixed  a  little  earth,  which 
rendered  the  whole  firmer  and  more  tenacious.     The 
little  pellet  of  well-tempered  mortar  thus  formed 
was  instantly  conveyed  by  the  bee  to  the  spot  se- 
lected for  the  nest,  where  the  foundation  was  formed 
by  a  circle  of  these  little  balls  deposited  in  regular 
succession.     On    this   circular  foundation  it  pro- 
ceeded to  raise  a  rouud  tower  of  very  small  dimen- 
sions.    Every  time  that  a  fresh  supply  of  mortar 
had  been  brought  to  the  spot,  the  insect  was  seen  to 
twist  and  twirl  it  about  between  its  teeth  and  first 
pair  of  legs ;  it  was  then  laid  in  the  place  destined 
to  receive  it,  and  moulded  into  the  proper  shape. 
As  the  tower  or  circular  hollow-  increases  in  height, 
the  insect  is  seen  thrusting  its  head  into  the  interior 
of  the  cell,  for  the  purpose,  no  doubt,  of  ascertain- 
ing whether  the  material  has  been  properly  applied ; 
as  the  inside  comes  in  contact  with  the  tender  and 
unprotected  skin  of  the   cherished  offspring,  it  is 
indispensable  that  it  should  be  rendered  perfectly 
even ;  and  on  this  account  it  is  smoothed  with  all 
the  assiduity  and  skill  of  the  provident  and  tender 
parent.     The   outside,  being  destined  for  no  such 
purpose,  is  left  in  a  rough  state.     Each  cell  is  sepa- 
rately formed,  and  the  whole,  when  completed,  is 
enveloped  in  a  common  covering  made  of  sand. 

After  a  cell  has  reached  a  certain  height,  and  be- 
fore it  has  been  quite  finished,  the  mason-bee,  like 
the  carpenter-bee,  goes  in  quest  of  honey  and  pollen, 


94  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [cH.  V. 

which  it  deposites  as  a  support  for  its  young-.  To 
facilitate  the  execution  of  this  task,  it  is  taught  by 
instinct  the  exact  quantity  of  food  required  to  supply 
each  grub  with  nourishment.  It  enters  the  cups  of 
flowers,  and  daubs  itself  all  over  with  pollen,  and 
then  flies  to  the  nest,  where  the  vegetable  dust  is 
brushed  neatly  off,  and  deposited  in  the  store  cell ; 
on  this  it  disgorges  from  its  honey-bag'  a  small  por- 
tion of  honey.  These  materials,  well  mixed  and 
kneaded  together,  are  formed  into  bee-bread;  the 
requisite  quantity  of  this  substance  having-  been 
prepared,  and  nicely  packed,  an  egg  is  then  laid  in 
each  cell,  the  top  is  carefully  closed,  and  the  labour 
of  the  mason-bee  terminates.  The  scene  of  its  in- 
dustry, and  the  objects  of  all  its  care  and  tender- 
ness, seem  to  be  then  all  at  once  forgotten ;  the  pur- 
poses of  nature  having  been  ansAvered,  and  the  per- 
petuation of  the  race  having  been  provided  for,  the 
individual  insect  dies. 

These  insects  have  frequently  been  observed  to 
appropriate  the  labours  and  usurp  the  rights  of  one 
another.  While  a  mason-bee  was  on  the  wing  in 
search  of  materials  for  finishing  a  cell,  Du  Hamel 
saw  another  enter  and  take  possession  of  it  without 
the  slightest  ceremony.  It  turned  about  in  every 
direction,  examined  every  part,  and  then  began  to 
proceed  as  if  the  whole  had  been  raised  by  its  own 
industry.  When  the  real  owner  of  the  dwelling  re- 
turned, the  stranger  would  not  budge  a  jot ;  in  order 
to  obtain  possession  of  its  own,  the  former  insect 
laid  down  its  load  of  mortar  and  offered  battle; 
which  was  readily  accepted  by  the  trespasser. 
These  combats,  although  curious  and  long,  seldom 
prove  mortal.  The  insect  which  gets  soonest  fa- 
tigued by  the  contest  retires,  leaving  its  victorious 
antagonist  in  possession  of  the  cell  which  formed 
the  subject  of  dispute. 

The  mason-bee,  like  other  insects,  is  exposed  to 
the  attacks  and  depredations  of  various  natural  ene- 


CH.  V.]  THE  MASON-BEE.  9S 

mies.  Notwithstanding-  the  strength  of  the  habita- 
tion which  had  been  formed  for  the  young  of  the 
mason-bee,  some  insects  pierce,  while  others  steal 
into  these  stony  towers,  and,  in  the  very  recesses 
of  this  mansion,  devour  the  offspring  of  the  indus- 
trious mason.  But  of  all  the  enemies  of  this  insect 
the  most  destructive  is  the  ant.  When  one  of  these 
strolling  marauders  has  discovered  the  hidden  trea- 
sure of  the  mason-bee,  information  of  the  welcome 
prize  is  speedily  communicated  to  the  whole  tribe, 
who  repair  in  long  files  towards  the  spot  which  con- 
tains the  booty.  The  poor  bee  makes  every  effort 
to  resist  its  antagonists ;  but,  fatigued  at  last  with 
unavailing  slaughter,  and  unable  to  drive  off  the  ad- 
vancing host,  it  gives  up  the  contest  in  despair,  and 
abandons  the  produce  of  its  labours  to  its  hungry  and 
unrelenting  foes. 

The  worms  enclosed  in  their  stony  prison  undergo 
the  usual  metamorphosis,  and  bite  their  way  through 
the  hard  substance  without  the  aid  of  the  mother. 

Du  Hamel  put  one  of  these  nests  into  a  glass  fun- 
nel, and  covered  the  orifice  of  the  handle  with  gauze. 
He  saw  three  young  bees  pierce  through  three  inches 
of  the  nest,  and  yet  they  were  unable  to  cut  the  gauze 
which  prevented  their  escape,  and  so  they  perished. 
Such  are  creatures  impelled  by  instinct,  often  tran- 
scending rational  beings  in  some  things,  as  much  as 
they  fall  below  them  in  others. 

The  ancients,  not  content  to  admire  the  actual  qua- 
lities and  instincts  of  the  hive  bee,  imagined  others, 
to  which  it  had  no  j  ust  pretension.  Seeing  bees  flying 
with  little  gravel-stones,  the  older  naturalists  thought 
that  they  did  so  to  prevent  their  being  carried  away 
by  the  wind ;  but  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  in 
these  instances,  the  mason-bee  was  mistaken  for  the 
hive  bee.  There  are  other  kinds  of  bees  which  build 
their  nests  in  the  hollow  of  stones,  or  in  other 
ready-made  cavities.  Their  manners  may  be  passed 
over. 


06  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [en.  v 

The  insect  which  Reaumur  has  denominated  the 
upholsterer-bee,  is  about  the  size  of  the  hive  bee  ;  its 
nest  is  composed  of  leaves,  formed  into  a  tube,  some- 
times eighteen  inches  long,  in  shape  resembling  a 
toothpick-case,  with  its  ends  rounded :  this  it  lays 
sometimes  horizontally,  sometimes  vertically,  in  a 
hole  in  the  ground.  The  boring  of  the  hole  is  a 
Work  of  pure  labour;  but  the  construction  of  the 
nest  deposited  in  it  manifests  the  most  consummate 
skill.  The  bee  first  of  all  hovers  about  a  leaf,  exa- 
mines it  well,  and  then  settling,  begins  to  clip  off 
a  portion  shaped  to  suit  its  purpose ;  the  most  dex- 
terous milliner  could  not  handle  her  scissors  with 
the  quickness  and  precision  with  which  this  bee  exe- 
cutes its  task. 

The  shape  of  the  cut  pieces  is  either  semi-ovoid 
or  circular ;  occasionally  it  makes  a  mistake  in  the 
size,  but  this  only  happens  in  a  number  of  instances, 
just  sufficient  to  remove  the  impression,  that  the 


a  The  bee  cutting. 

b  The  diameter  of  a  large  piece  of  leaf  used  fbr  the  sides  of  the  cell 

c  The  dimensions  of  a  piece  of  leaf  used  in  corking  up  the  cells. 

insect  is  a  mere  machine.  As  it  clips  with  its  sharp 
teeth,  it  folds  the  morsel  under  its  belly,  bestriding 
and  squeezing  it  between  its  six  legs,  so  that  at  the 
last  bite  it  would  fall  to  the  ground  with  its  load,  if 
it  were  not  prepared  for  flight. 

The  pieces  of  leaf  first  used  in  lining  the  earthen 
apartment  are  the  largest*    These  large  bits  it  rolls 


CH.  V.]  THE  UPHOLSTERER-BEE.  97 

into  a  tube,  lining  the  whole  length  of  the  hole  it  has 
made,  rounding  off  and  closing  one  end  of  it  by 
doubling  the  pieces  one  upon  another.  This  is  the 
outermost  coating,  laid  on  to  prevent  the  earth  from 
falling  in.  Within  this  is  made  the  number  of  cells 
which  the  insect  requires.  Three  semi-ovoid  pieces 
of  leaf,  rolled  in  such  a  manner  that  the  edge  of  one 
piece  overlaps  a  little  the  edge  of  the  next,  form  the 
hollow  of  the  cell,  its  height  being  less  than  an  inch 
The  ends  of  these  three  pieces  are  then  turned  up  to 
form  the  bottom.  The  bee,  however,  is  not  contented 
with  one  layer  only,  but  adds  to  the  thickness  of  the 
lining  of  the  cell  by  applying  three  additional  pieces 
within  it ;  and  again  within  that  three  others,  so  that 
there  are  at  least  three  cells  put  one  into  another, 
each  made  of  three  pieces  of  leaves,  the  bottom  of 
which,  being  formed  of  the  turning  up  of  the  extre- 
mities of  all  the  morsels  used,  is  ninefold. 

One  cell  being  thus  completed,  an  egg  is  deposited 
within  it,  and  the  empty  space  around  the  egg  is 
filled  with  food  nearly  liquid.  The  cell  being  placed 
horizontally,  and  its  contents  not  being  very  viscid, 
it  is  necessary  to  cork  it  up :  this  operation  the  bee 
executes  by  cutting  several  circular  portions  of  leaf 
which  precisely  fit  the  mouth  of  the  cell :  they  are 
as  exactly  measured  as  if  a  compass  had  been  used 
in  cutting  them. 

The  second  cell  is  placed  on  the  first,  the  third  on 
the  second ;  the  whole,  when  completed,  very  much 
resembles  a  set  of  thimbles  put  one  upon  another, 
and  enclosed  in  a  large  toothpick-case  (fig.  1,  2). 


This  is  a  very  extraordinary  result  of  instinct : 
how  many  trials  would  a  human  artificer  require  be- 


98  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  V. 

fore  he  should  succeed  in  cutting-  a  circular  piece  of 
card  to  close  up  the  mouth  of  a  thimble  so  exactly, 
that,  if  placed  horizontally,  no  honey  should  escape! 
—yet  the  bee  accomplishes  this  in  a  few  seconds, 
and  at  a  distance  from  the  tube ;  acting  as  if  it  had 
preserved  the  idea  of  its  diameter  in  its  head.  The 
other  pieces,  entering  into  the  composition  of  the 
body  of  each  cell,  must  also  have  their  exact  size ; 
the  outermost  must  be  the  largest  in  every  direction, 
and  have  a  determinate  figure ;  while  the  inner  ones 
must  be  of  a  less  size. 

"  If,"  says  Reaumur, "  these  bees  act  mechanically, 
they  are  very  surprising  machines ;  for  they  not  only 
cut  out  certain  regular  figures,  but  make  them  sub- 
servient to  after-use.  Whether  this  be  attained  by 
instinctive  or  intellectual  means,  the  glory  is  due  to 
that  Intelligence  which  made  them  and  us."  In  these 
habitations,  the  young  of  the  leaf-cutting  bee  remains 
during  the  whole  winter,  and  emerges  a  perfect  insect 
early  in  the  ensuing  spring. 

The  bee  just  described,  though  ingenious  in  the 
furnishing  of  its  humble  dwelling,  always  chooses 
the  leaf  of  certain  trees  of  a  modest  colour ;  for  there 
are  various  kinds  of  leaf-cutters,  using  various  kinds 
of  leaves.  There  is,  however,  another  species  which 
may  much  more  strictly  be  called  the  upholsterer 
than  the  leaf-cutter ;  for  it  literally  lines  its  dwelling, 
which  is  a  perpendicular  hole  in  the  ground,  with 
tapestry  of  the  brightest  flame-coloured  scarlet. 

The  nest  of  this  little  creature  is  usually  to  be 
found  by  the  side  of  the  paths  which  traverse  corn- 
fields, and  it  begins  to  construct  its  habitation  when 
the  wild  poppy  is  young  and  fresh  in  flower,  cutting 
out  bits  from  its  thin  and  crimson  leaf,  to  line  a  hole 
which  it  has  dug  to  the  depth  of  three  inches ;  the 
last  inch  is  wider  than  the  first  two ;  the  bottom  is 
first  overspread  with  the  tapestry,  and  the  cylindri- 
cal sides  are  next  lined ;  the  whole  being  composed 
of  several  layers.  After  this  has  been  accomplished, 


CH.  V.] 


THE  UPHOLSTERER-BEE. 


99 


1  The  cell  before  the  eg?  is  deposited  within ;  it  is  lined  the  whole 

length  with  the  leaf  of  the  red  poppy. 
2.  The  red  poppy  lining  depressed. 

one  egg  is  deposited  in  it,  with  a  quantity  of  honey 
and  pollen,  or  bee-bread,  piled  up  an  inch  high ;  the 
lining  of  the  two  upper  inches  of  the  hole  is  then 
thrust  down,  and  pressed  on  the  mass,  so  as  to  form 
a  sort  of  cork ;  and,  to  complete  the  work,  the  bee 
shovels  in  the  earth  which  had  been  dug  out,  so 
neatly,  that  Reaumur  was  puzzled  to  make  out  what 
had  become  of  the  nest  he  had  seen  only  a  short  time 
before.  It  would  appear  that  all  this  labour  is  re- 
quired to  form  one  cell  and  to  receive  one  egg; 
doubtlessly  there  are  others,  but  the  same  vicinity  is 
not  chosen  by  the  same  insect  for  the  rest  of  its  off- 
spring ;  the  nature  of  the  ground,  probably,  decides 
the  location,  for  it  must  be  dry,  otherwise  the  crim- 
son leaves  and  the  honey  become  putrid,  and  the  lit- 
tle inhabitant,  instead  of  a  cradle,  finds  a  tomb. 


100  THE    COMMON    WASP.  [CH.  VI, 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    COMMON   WASP. 

The  Nest — Construction  and  Materials — Form  of  the  Combs — Affection 
for  its  Young — Manner  of  feeding  them — Solitary  Wasps — Hornets. 

AFTER  considering  the  peaceful  community  of  bees, 
few  perhaps  will  be  tempted  to  observe  the  manners 
and  habits  of  wasps.  The  one  may  be  looked  upon 
as  a  highly-civilized  and  humane  tribe,  resorting  to 
arms  in  self-defence  alone,  and  seldom  gaining  their 
bread  by  violent  means — the  other  as  a  ferocious 
tribe,  subsisting  solely  by  rapine  and  murder,  fear- 
lessly attacking  most  other  insects,  and  giving  no 
quarter  to  the  bee  or  the  fly.  The  habits  of  the 
common  wasp  will  serve  as  an  example  of  the  rest 
of  this  species  which  live  in  society. 

The  vespiary,  or  wasp's  nest,  contains  three 
classes  of  wasps ;  females,  neuters  armed  with 
stings,  and  males  destitute  of  this  weapon.  They 
are  all  workers.  Different  kinds  of  wasps  choose 
different  places  to  construct  their  nests ;  some  ex- 
posing them  to  all  the  inclemencies  of  the  weather, 
others  sheltering  them  in  a  hollow  of  a  tree,  or  a 
hole  carefully  dug  in  the  ground.  The  latter  is  the 
case  with  the  common  wasp.  A  kind  of  covered 
and  tortuous  gallery  leads  to  the  subterranean  city; 
in  this  there  are  large  spaces,  which  may  be  likened 
to  our  public  places,  streets,  and  houses,  all  symme- 
trically arranged,  and  though  not  evincing  the  ex- 
quisite economy  of  the  bee,  yet  deserving  much 
commendation:  the  city  itself  is  surrounded  by  a 
wall,  composed  of  a  substance  which  in  texture  very 
closely  resembles  the  paper  in  ordinary  use ;  this 


CH.  VI.]  THE  COMMON  WASP.  101 

frail  material  is,  however,  so  artfully  arranged  and 
compacted,  as  effectually  to  exclude  the  rain. 

The  mode  in  which  this  envelope  is  fabricated  de- 
serves attention:  when  the  wasps  wish  to  thicken  it, 
they  build  another  layer  upon  the  one  already  formed ; 
each  of  these  layers  is  about  as  thick  as  a  sheet  of 
ordinary  paper;  several  wasps  are  simultaneously 
employed  in  extending  or  thickening  the  layer,  and 
this  is  done  without  confusion  and  with  great  cele- 
rity. Having  procured  from  abroad  the  material 
required  for  their  work,  they  moisten  it,  convert  it 
into  a  paste,  and  roll  it  into  a  ball ;  this  ball  is  then 
taken  to  the  part  of  the  edifice  which  stands  in  need 
of  repairing;  the  insect,  then  lays  it  down,  and 
running  backwards,  extends  the  ball  into  a  thread ; 
this  thread  it  then  unites  to  the  rest,  by  repassing 
over  it  and  consolidating  it  with  great  care.  The 
exterior  figure  of  the  vespiary  is  not  unlike  a  large 
Indian-rubber  bottle  ;  the  surface,  however,  instead 
of  being  polished  and  smooth,  seems  as  if  composed 
of  oyster-shells  tacked  to  one  another.  It  is  not 
uniform  in  colour,  owing  to  the  variety  of  vegetable 
fibre  used  in  fabricating  the  substance  of  which  it  is 
formed ;  and  when  finished  is  about  two  inches  thick. 
There  are  generally  two  holes,  each  large  enough 
to  admit  only  one  wasp  at  a  time;  these  are  the 
gates  of  the  city,  and,  according  to  Reaumur,  one 
of  them  serves  for  ingress,  the  other  for  egress; 
such  is  the  order  observed,  that  the  uses  of  the  re- 
spective doors  are  rarely  if  ever  changed. 

If  a  section  of  the  nest  be  made,  the  first  thing  to 
be  observed  is,  that  the  envelope  or  wall  is  not  solid, 
but  formed  of  layers  of  paper,  between  which  there 
is  a  considerable  interval.  By  this  means,  not  only 
economy  of  materials  is  consulted,  but  the  rain  can- 
not penetrate  so  easily  as  if  the  whole  wTere  solid. 

The  combs  are  parallel  to  each  other,  and  to  the 
horizon ;  they  are  composed  of  the  paper-like  ma- 
terial already  described ;  the  cells  are  hexagonal; 


NATURAL    HISTORY.  [CH.  VI. 


1  The  exterior  of  the  vespiary. 

2  Interior  of  the  same. 

3  The  position  of  a  pillar. 

but  differ  in  this  respect  from  those  of  the  bee,  that 
one  comb  contains  only  one  set  of  cells,  whereas, 
it  will  be  remembered,  the  bee  contrives  to  have  a 
double  row  in  each  comb.  The  cells  contain  neither 
honey  nor  wax,  but  arc  solely  constructed  to  lodge 
the  young;  the  combs  are  of  unequal  dimensions, 
regulated  by  the  diameters  of  the  various  parts  of 
the  globular  envelope,  the  uppermost  not  being  per- 
haps more  than  two  inches,  while  that  which  is 
placed  in  the  middle  measures  twelve  inches  in  dia- 
meter. It  is  calculated  that,  on  an  average,  a  ves- 
piary may  contain  about  sixteen  thousand  cells, 
which,  as  they  are  filled  thrice  in  each  year,  will 
give  some  idea  of  the  prodigious  fertility  of  these 
creatures. 


CH.  VI.]  THE    COMMON    WASP.  103 

There  is  an  interval  of  half  an  inch  between  each 
comb.  Although  the  combs  are  fixed  to  the  side  of 
the  nest,  they  would  not  be  sufficiently  strong  with- 
out farther  support;  the  ingenious  builders,  there- 
fore, connect  each  comb  to  that  below  it,  by  a  num- 
ber of  strong  cylindrical  columns  or  pillars,  having, 
according  to  the  rules  of  architecture,  their  base  and 
capital  wider  than  the  shaft,  and  composed  of  the 
same  paper-like  material  used  in  other  parts  of  the 
nest,  but  of  a  more  compact  substance.  A  rustic 
colonnade,  consisting  of  no  less  than  forty  or  fifty 
such  columns,  connects  the  middle  combs ;  for  the 
upper  and  lower  combs  being  of  less  dimensions 
and  weight,  a  smaller  number  suffices.  In  order  to 
get  at  these  combs,  the  wasps  take  care  to  leave  a 
void  space  between  them  and  the  extreme  envelope. 

Cruel  and  ferocious  as  these  insects  may  appear, 
still  their  affection  for  their  habitation  and  young  is 
very  striking.  Whatever  injury  may  be  done  to  the 
nest,  if  it  should  be  even  broken  to  pieces,  they  will 
linger  about  the  cherished  spot,  or  quit  it  only  to  fol- 
low the  combs  wherever  they  may  be  transferred. 
"  Those,"  says  Reaumur,  "  which  were  absent 
when  I  removed  the  nest,  finding,  on  their  return, 
neither  companions  nor  home,  knew  not  where  to 
go,  and  for  days  together  hovered  around  the  hole 
before  they  determined  to  abandon  the  spot."  The 
material  from  which  the  nest  is  constructed  is  vege- 
table fibre.  The  wasp  will  not  use  sawdust ;  but, 
knowing  that  a  filamentous  material,  like  linen  rags, 
is  necessary  for  the  fabrication  of  its  paper,  it 
amasses  pieces  of  some  substance  possessing  this 
quality.  As  the  first  step  in  the  process  of  paper- 
making  is  to  soak  the  vegetable  fibre  in  water,  so 
the  wasp  takes  special  care  to  select  the  filaments 
which  it  intends  to  use  from  wet  wood  which  has 
rotted  in  the  rain.  These  are  worked  up  with  a 
glutinous  secretion,  and  thus  the  material  is  pre- 
pared. When  the  wasp  can  get  its  paper  ready- 


|04  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [CH.  VI. 

made,  it  makes  no  scruple  to  appropriate  it.  Reau- 
mur, being  once  disturbed  by  a  noise  in  his  study, 
found  that  it  arose  from  the  gnawing  of  a  piece  of 
paper  which  these  insects  had  attacked.  A  few 
only  of  the  community  are  architects ;  the  rest  hav- 
ing other  appropriate  employments.  The  females, 
for  there  are  as  many  as  three  hundred,  unlike  the 
queen-bee,  do  not  pass  their  lives  in  receiving  the 
homage  of  their  subjects,  but  perform  every  species 
of  labour.  The  neuters,  however,  as  among  bees, 
are  the  true  workers.  They  build  the  nest,  and  fo- 
rage for  food  for  the  males,  females,  and  the  young. 
The  worms  are  not  locked  up  in  a  cell  surrounded 
with  food,  but  require  to  be  fed,  like  the  young  of 
birds.  "  I  saw,"  says  Reaumur,  "  a  female  wasp, 
which  had  entered  the  vespiary  with  the  belly  of  an 
insect ;  this  she  contrived  by  degrees  to  swallow, 
after  which  she  ran  to  various  celts,  and,  disgorging 
that  which  she  had  eaten,  distributed  it  among  the 
brood  of  worms."  Hence  it  appears,  that  it  not 
only  procured  the  food,  but  prepared  it  by  a  partial 
digestion.  The  wasp  ie  particularly  fond  of  the 
belly  of  the  bee ;  it  is  a  choice  bit  which  it  eagerly 
seeks.  It  will  watch  for  hours  at  the  door  of  a 
bee»hive,  pounce  upon  some  unfortunate  bee  which 
is  about  to  enter,  and  tumbling  it  to  the  ground,  in 
a  trice  separate,  with  its  two  serrated  teeth,  the 
tender  abdomen,  containing  the  soft  intestines  and 
the  honey-bag,  from  the  dry  and  hard  chest  of  the 
insect :  having  secured  its  prey,  it  hurries  away  to 
its  habitation.  The  large  blue-bottle  fly  is  another 
delicate  morsel  greatly  coveted  by  the  wasp ;  and 
so  well  aware  are  some  butchers  of  the  service  done 
by  the  wasps  in  preventing  the  fly  from  blowing 
their  meat,  that  they  bribe  them  to  their  stalls  with 
pieces  of  liver.  As  soon  as  its  appetite  is  satisfied, 
either  by  flesh  or  fruit,  the  worker  carries  to  the 
nest  a  portion  of  its  prey.  When  the  insect  enters 
the  common  dwelling,  those  whose  labours  kep* 


CH.  VI.]  THE    COMMON    WASP.  105 

them  at  home  surround  it,  and  take  their  share 
without  dispute  or  combat.  Those  which  feed  on 
fruit  seem  to  return  empty-handed,  as  they  do  not 
carry  off  solid  substances.  However,  Reaumur  ob- 
served that  even  these  had  not  forgotten  the  neces- 
sities of  their  comrades.  Having  entered  the  nest, 
they  disgorged  a  clear  drop,  which  was  sucked  with 
avidity  by  one  or  two  hungry  workers ;  when  this 
was  consumed,  a  second,  and  even  a  third  supply 
was  furnished.  They  seem  to  vary  the  quality  of 
the  food  according  to  the  age  of  the  larvae.  Reau- 
mur mentions  a  young  Comte  de  Ohatelu,  who  en- 
deavoured to  bring  up  some  young  wasps  by  hand, 
feeding  them  with  honey;  but  a  great  mortality 
took  place  among  them,  from  the  want  of  knowledge 
as  to  the  quantity  and  quality  of  the  food  fit  for 
them.  As  soon  as  the  young  become  large,  they 
prepare  for  their  metamorphosis,  and  they  them- 
selves like  the  larva  of  the  hive  bee,  clo'fte  the  cell 
with  a  silky  covering.  About  three  weeks  elapse 
between  the  laying  of  the  egg  and  the  evolution  of 
the  perfect  insect.  As  soon  as  the  cell  is  vacated, 
the  males,  who  are  the  scavengers  of  the  commu- 
nity, cleanse  and  prepare  the  habitation  for  a  new 
tenant. 

All  this  mass  of  building,  the  columns,  and  the 
walls,  though  the  labour  of  several  months,  lasts 
but  one  year :  thronged  as  it  is  in  summer,  its  thou- 
sands quickly  perish;  a  few  only  linger  there  in  a 
torpid  state  during  the  winter.  Those  which  sur- 
vive the  cold  are  females,  destined  to  continue  the 
species.  These  are  born  in  the  autumn,  at  the  same 
time  as  the  males,  and,  becoming  impregnated,  lay 
in  spring.  Each  founds  a  new  republic.  Alone, 
unattended  by  a  single  guard  or  friend,  the  female 
wasp  builds  a  few  solitary  cells,  and  lays  in  them 
the  eggs  of  neuters.  These  are  necessary  to  carry 
on  the  labour  of  the  nest,  and  commence  their  toils 
within  a  few  hours  after  their  last  metamorphosis 


106  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [CH.  VI. 

If  the  queen-bee  be  compared  with  the  mother- 
wasp,  the  latter  will  gain  by  the  contrast.  "If 
glory  be  known  to  insects,"  says  Reaumur, — "if 
solid  glory  be  measured  among-  them,  as  among  us, 
by  the  difficulties  surmounted,  the  female  wasp  is  a 
heroine  to  whom  the  queen-bee  is  in  no  way  com- 
parable. When  the  latter  leaves  her  hive  to  seek  a 
new  sovereignty,  she  is  accompanied  by  many  thou- 
sand workers,  industrious,  laborious,  and  ready  to 
execute  all  that  is  necessary  for  the  welfare  of  the 
new  establishment ;  while  the  female  wasp,  alone 
and  single-handed,  lays  the  foundations  of  her  new 
republic.  It  is  she  who  has  to  seek  or  make  a  hole, 
when  she  cannot  find  one  ready-made  to  her  pur- 
pose, to  build  in  k  cells  to  receive  the  eggs,  and  to 
nourish  the  young  after  they  have  been  evolved." 

It  might  perhaps  be  thought  natural  that  several 
females,  born  in  the  same  hive,  should  assist  each 
other  in  laying  the  foundations  of  the  new  city. 
But  for  some  unknown  reasons  this  consorting  of 
females  is  alien  to  the  genius  of  these  insects ;  and 
in  the  present  case  nothing  would  be  gained  by  it. 
Each  female  is  under  the  necessity  of  providing  for 
her  own  eggs  ;  hence  she  could  not  help  her  neigh- 
bour. The  neuters  all  perish  when  the  first  cold 
weather  sets  in;  nay,  all  the  young,  which  have 
not  arrived  at  maturity,  are,  on  the  approach  of 
winter,  dragged  from  their  cells  and  massacred,  to 
prevent  perhaps  a  more  cruel  and  protracted  death 
by  famine  or  frost. 

The  ferocity  of  the  wasp  is  otherwise  rarely  ex- 
ercised on  its  own  kind;  the  nest  never  presents 
those  terrible  combats  and  massacres  which  take 
place  in  the  hive.  Occasionally  the  neuters  fight 
with  each  other;  or  a  neuter  sometimes  fights  with 
a  male ;  but,  according  to  Reaumur,  the  result  is 
rarely  fatal. — Even  towards  man,  this  tribe  of  in- 
sects is  peaceably  disposed.  The  celebrated  natu- 
ralist just  mentioned  states,  that  they  will  not 


CH.  VI.]  HORNETS.  107 

attack  those  who  are  content  to  observe  them  simply ; 
and  he  adds,  that  he  has  seen  ladies  who  had  be- 
come familiar  enough  with  them  to  allow  them  to 
settle  on  their  hands. 

The  hornet  is  the  largest  of  the  wasp  tribe,  and 
were  its  motions  at  all  equal  to  its  strength,  ferocity, 
and  the  venom  of  its  poison,  it  would  be  a  tiger 
among  insects.  It  is  a  most  unmerciful  enemy  of 
the  hive  bee,  whose  carcass  forms  the  food  of  its 
young ;  and  its  sting  is  very  dangerous  even  to  the 
human  race.  Reaumur  states,  that  "  Don  Allan 
Chartreux,  having  imprudently  disturbed  a  hornets* 
nest  was  stung  by  one,  which  caused  so  much  pain 
as  to  almost  make  him  faint.  He  reached  his  con- 
vent with  difficulty,  and  remained  for  three  days  in 
a  state  of  fever." 

The  manners,  habitation,  &c.  of  these  and  the 
other  social  wasps  are  essentially  the  same.  They 
all  build  their  nests  from  a  sort  of  paper  more  or 
less  fine,  and  in  all  several  females  live  peaceably 
together. 

The  Vespa  Nidulans  of  Fabricius,  a  foreign  spe- 
cies of  wasp,  appends  its  nest  to  a  branch  (jig*  1). 
It  first  forms  a  thick  pasteboard  case,  which  com- 
pletely withstands  the  seasons,  and  within  this  it 
places  layers  of  combs  partitioned  off  with  surpris- 
ing regularity.  The  access  to  the  cells  is  by  means 
of  a  hollow  "and  round  passage,  which  runs  along 
the  centre  of  the  whole  nest. 

To  make  cells  is  the  same  thing  as  to  make  a 
comb,  with  the  hornet  and  the  wasp;  not  so  with 
this  species :  the  mere  juxtaposition  of  cells  does 
not  constitute  a  comb.  After  making  the  outside 
covering,  they  partition  it  off  into  shelves,  and  to 
these  it  is  that  the  cells  are  appended  (Jig*  2). 

The  Vespa  Gallica  of  Linnaeus  attaches  its  nest 
to  a  stubble,  or  a  small  branch  in  a  bush ;  the  form 
is  elegant,  being  composed  of  one  or  two  cakes,  and 
twenty  or  thirty  cells ;  it  is  placed  vertically,  and 


108 


NATURAL   HISTORY. 


[CH.  VI. 


Nest  of  Vespa  Nidulans. 

Fig.  1  gives  a  miniature  representation  of  one  of  these  curious  re 
ceptacles :  the  bottom  has  been  torn  off,  so  as  to  show  one  of  the  cakes 

Fig:  2  shows  the  internal  arrangement  of  the  combs,  as  well  as  the 
centrical  orifice  perforating  all  of  them,  serving  as  a  door  of  admission 
to  the  little  wasp. 

the  whole  bears  a  considerable  resemblance  to  the 
centre  of  the  sunflower.  The  vertical  position  ap- 
pears to  be  the  best  adapted  to  guard  against  rain ; 
but  as  an  additional  security,  the  little  architect 
carefully  covers  its  paper  habitation  with  a  varnish 
insoluble  in  water ;  and  thus  protected,  it  can  dis- 
pense with  the  precaution  of  concealing  its  nest, 


CH.  VI.]  THE     SOLITARY    WASP.  109 

like  the  other  species  of  wasps.  It  may  be  remarked 
that  the  cells  of  all  the  wasps  we  have  described  are 
not  perfectly  hexagonal,  being  wider  at  their  orifice 
than  at  their  base. 

If  the  wasps  which  live  in  society  may  dispute 
with  the  hive  bee  in  genius,  address,  in  the  patient 
endurance  of  labour,  and  in  tenderness  to  rear  their 
young,  those  which  lead  a  solitary  life  yield  in 
nothing  deserving  of  admiration  to  bees  of  ana- 
logous habits. 

The  solitary  wasps,  like  the  social  ones,  feed  on 
fruits  or  flesh,  and  are  for  the  most  part  what  may 
be  emphatically  termed  insects  of  prey. 

There  is  a  little  creature  called  Vespa  muraria 
by  Linnaeus,  which  builds  a  curious  nest  for  its 
young,  and  supplies  them  in  a  very  singular  man- 
ner with  living  food;  it  is  about  the  size  of  a  com- 
mon worker-wasp. 

Towards  the  end  of  May,  and  during  the  whole 
of  the  month  of  June,  it  is  busily  employed  in 
building  cells.  Its  whole  object  is  to  form  a  cir- 
cular hole  a  few  inches  deep,  and  in  diameter  not 
much  exceeding  that  of  its  own  body.  In  this 
cavity  only  a  single  egg  is  deposited;  several  of 
these  cells  are  of  course  necessary  for  the  pur- 
poses of  the  same  female. 

The  spot  chosen  by  this  mason-wasp  is  usually  a 
wall  or  some  sandy  place ;  sometimes,  however,  the 
cell  is  dug  in  the  earth. 

On  a  particular  occasion,  Reaumur  had  con- 
structed a  set  of  boxes,  which  he  had  filled  with 
sand  for  the  purpose  of  observing  at  leisure  the 
manners  of  the  formica  Zeo,  or  ant-lion ;  in  one  of 
these  the  sand  had  become  quite  hard,  so  that, 
although  he  made  every  possible  allowance  for  the 
excellent  teeth  of  the  little  wasp,  yet  he  thought 
that  to  gnaw  into  that  which  was  as  hard  as  a  com- 
mon stone,  was  an  undertaking  which  exceeded  its 
power.  He  observed,  however,  that  the  little  crea- 
L-K 


110  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [CH.  VI. 

ture  did  not  trust  to  its  teeth  alone ;  but  first  voided 
a  liquid  drop  on  the  spot,  and  by  this  means  soft- 
ened the  material  which  it  wanted  for  use.  Then 
having  recourse  to  its  teeth,  it  detached  a  morsel 
from  the  mass,  and  taking  it  up  in  its  two  fore-legs, 
kneaded  it  into  a  mortar.  With  such  materials,  and 
so  gathered,  the  insect  commences  its  operations. 

In  the  following  figure  several  tubes  are  seen 
jutting  out  of  the  mass ;  although  formed  with  great 
care  and  art,  and  evidently  manifesting  design,  they 
are  not  made  to  last ;  they  are  no  more  than  tem- 
porary elevations  raised  over  the  excavation  in  the 
wall  or  sand,  and  are  destined  to  be  destroyed  as 
soon  as  the  latter  is  completed. 


o,  &,  c,  d,  e,  exhibit  the  formation  of  the  tubes  in  various  stages. 

The  little  pieces  of  moistened  sand  and  earth  first 
gathered,  are  placed  in  a  circle,  which  serves  to 
mark  out  the  dimensions  of  the  hole.  As  the  in- 
sect continues  to  dig,  it  adds  to  the  length  of  the 
tube,  and  when  it  has  completed  the  excavation,  it 


CH.  VI.  J  THE    SOLITARY    WASP.  1 1 1 

has  also  completed  its  tube.  The  egg-  is  then  laid, 
and  the  hole  carefully  filled  up  and  covered  with  the 
very  sand  with  which  the  projecting  tube  had  been 
made ;  the  worker  is  sometimes  compelled  to  leave 
its  work,  for  the  little  stock  of  fluid  with  which  the 
sand  was  moistened  becomes  frequently  exhausted, 
and  both  Reaumur  and  Latreille  conjecture  that  it 
fetches  a  fresh  supply  from  a  neighbouring  rivulet, 
or  perhaps  sucks  a  gluing  juice  from  some  plant 
or  tree. 

"I  have  remarked,"  says  the  former  naturalist, 
"  that  in  about  an  hour  a  wasp  excavated  a  hole  as 
long  as  its  body,  and  raised  above  it  a  cylinder  of 
equal  length :  it  does  not  appear  that  there  is  a  de- 
terminate depth  for  every  hole,  nor  are  the  tubes 
either  of  the  same  length ;  some  are  carried  on  to 
the  length  of  two  inches,  and  some  fall  short  of  one." 

The  wasp,  no  doubt,  has  a  reason  for  all  this :  the 
very  fact  of  the  diversity  proves  a  choice ;  but  what 
are  the  reasons  which  impel  it  to  take  the  trouble 
of  building  a  hollow  tube  out  of  the  material  ex 
cavated  ]  why  not  throw  away  the  rubbish  1 

The  following  are  Reaumur's  conjectures : — 

"  In  following  this  wasp  while  at  work,  we  can 
.discover  at  least  one  of  the  uses  to  which  the  tube 
is  subservient :  the  materials  of  the  tube  are  to  the 
mason-wasp  what  the  heap  of  mortar  is  to  the 
brick-layer ;  the  whole  depth  of  the  hole  is  not  ne- 
cessary to  lodge  one  egg,  a  portion  of  it  being  suffi- 
cient for  that  purpose.  It  is  proper,  however,  that 
the  depth  should  be  considerable,  lest  the  rays  of 
the  sun  should  impart  too  much  heat  to  an  egg 
placed  too  near  the  surface.  The  wasp  knows  how 
much  of  it  ought  to  be  left  unfilled,  the  rest  is  closed 
with  the  same  sand  which  had  been  abstracted  in 
digging  it ;  and  it  is  in  order  to  have  this,  as  it  were, 
at  hand,  that  the  insect  takes  the  pains  of  forming 
the  tube. 

"  But  it  may  be  asked,  why  take  the  trouble  of 


112  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  VI. 

making  a  tube  ?  why  not  simply  heap  up  the  sand 
dug  out  ?  When  you  see  the  work,  you  perceive 
that  it  has  scarcely  more  trouble  in  fixing-  the  little 
heap  of  mortar  to  the  tube,  than  would  be  encoun- 
tered in  casting1  it  out;  and  it  is  more  easy  to 
arrange  the  little  mass  in  the  cylindrical  form,  than 
to  construct  a  pyramid  on  a  vertical  wall,  where  for 
the  most  part  these  tubes  are  found. 

"  This  tube  has  perhaps  other  uses.  While  the 
wasp  is  absent,  some  ichneumon  fly  might  come 
and  deposite  in  its  nest  an  egg  enclosing  an  insect 
fatal  to  its  young.  The  ichneumon  will  not  so 
readily  enter  a  hole,  when,  to  approach  it,  it  is  neces- 
sary to  make  a  long  journey,  and  pass  a  tube  which 
prevents  it  from  seeing  if  the  wasp  be  absent.  I 
have  observed  one,  which,  after  much  hesitation, 
turned  and  re-turned  around  the  mouth  of  the  tube, 
and  at  last  ventured  in ;  1  also  saw  that  this  was 
very  mal  d  propos,  for  the  wasp  happening  to  be  at 
home,  presented  itself  before  the  ichneumon,  who 
had  believed  it  out  of  the  way,  so  that  there  was 
nothing  left  for  the  latter  but  to  take  speedily  to 
flight." 

If  the  hole  be  opened  after  the  wasp  has  closed  it, 
it  will  be  found  filled  with  a  number  of  caterpillars, 
neatly  rolled  and  packed  together,  but  these,  though 
aAive,  have  not  the  power  of  motion.  Thus,  from 
the  moment  it  is  evolved  from  the  egg,  the  little 
carnivorous  offspring  of  the  wasp  can  attack  its 
prey,  and  eat  into  them  without  any  danger  or  dis- 
turbance from  creatures,  which,  in  comparison  to 
itself,  are  giants  in  size. 

Being  lodged  at  the  bottom  of  the  cell,  with  a 
dozen  worms  packed  up  over  its  head,  the  larva  of 
the  wasp  begins  to  attack  the  one  immediately 
above;  it  sucks  with  such  avidity,  that  Reaumur 
experienced  some  difficulty  in  withdrawing  it  from 
the  caterpillar.  Indeed,  all  that  the  voracious  worm 
has  to  do,  until  the  period  of  its  metamorphosis,  is 


CV    V.] 


THE    SOLITARY   WASP. 


113 


a  The  green  caterpillar. 
b  The  grub  feeding  on  one. 
r.  The  orifice  leading  to  a  cell. 
d  A  vacated  cell. 

to  eat.  Reaumur  took  the  trouble  of  ascertaining- 
the  quantity  consumed,  and  found  that,  taking  one 
day  with  another,  one  caterpillar  a  day  was  not  too 
much. 

Here  we  meet  with  another  instance  of  that  sin- 
gular faculty,  by  which  the  mother  wasp  is  enabled 
to  apportion  the  exact  quantity  of  food  to  the  wants 
of  her  offspring.  To  some  she  gives  twelve  cater- 
pillars, to  others  a  less  number,  but  in  this  case 
they  are  of  a  larger  size.  Moreover,  the  food  is 
always  of  the  same  kind;  for  during  the  twelve 
years  in  which  Reaumur  observed  their  manners,  he 
invariably  found  the  same  species  of  caterpillar  en- 
closed by  these  insects. 

The  caterpillars  are  entombed  alive ;  but  the  poi- 
son of  the  sting  appears  to  render  them  insensible ; 
at  least  this  is  the  conjecture :  some,  therefore,  must 
remain  without  food  for  a  fortnight,  the  period 
K2 


114  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [CH.  VI. 

which  the  larva  of  the  wasp  takes  to  prepare  for  its 
metamorphosis.  How  is  it  that  they  do  not  perish? 
It  is  a  circumstance  well  worth  remarking,  that 
these  caterpillars  are  all  of  the  same  size,  and 
all  therefore  of  the  same  age.  It  is  not  to  save  her- 
self the  trouble  of  multiplying  her  journeys  that  the 
mother  wasp  chooses  them  of  a  large  size,  for  it  is 
evident  that  a  greater  degree  of  trouble  is  required 
to  select,  than  to  take  at  hazard  worms  of  any  size. 
Reaumur  conjectures  that  the  wasp  is  guided  by  her 
instincts  to  choose  only  those  caterpillars  which 
have  attained  their  full  growth,  and  are  capable,  in 
consequence,  of  sustaining  a  longer  fast.  Had  they 
been  placed  in  the  nest  at  a  younger  age,  when  their 
appetite  called  for  a  plentiful  supply  of  food,  it  is 
evident  they  must  have  perished ;  and  thus  the  mo- 
ther-wasp would  have  enclosed  the  cherished  worm 
in  an  offensive  sewer  instead  of  a  cradle  furnished 
with  an  ample  store  of  appropriate  food. 

The  mode,  too,  in  which  the  caterpillars  are  de- 
posited is  worthy  of  observation.  Had  they  been 
huddled  together,  the  worm,  instead  of  finishing  the 
one  immediately  above,  before  it  attacked  the  rest, 
might  have  nibbled  and  killed  the  whole  batch,  with- 
out consuming  any  one  entirely,  and  thus  have  de- 
stroyed the  caterpillars,  and  consequently  brought 
on  the  putrefaction  of  the  food,  and  so  have  been 
doomed  to  live  on  carcasses  or  perish  among  them. 
The  entrance  to  the  nest  is  just  wide  enough  to  ad- 
mit the  mother-wasp:  when  she  carries  in  a  cater- 
pillar, she  first  unrolls  it,  and  holds  it  in  a  line  under 
her  own  belly,  and  then  depositing  it  at  the  bottom 
of  the  cell,  the  creature  of  itself  rolls  into  a  ring, 
the  wasp  merely  taking  care  to  press  it  down. 
Reaumur  found  that  the  larva  spins  a  cocoon,  and 
remains  in  it  ten  or  eleven  months;  it  then  eats  its 
way  through  the  nest,  and  comes  forth  a  perfect 
insect. 

There  are  var'^us  species  of  American  wasps 


CH.  VI. J  THE    SOLITARY  WASP.  115 

which  feed  their  young  with  spiders,  cock-roaches, 
flies,  and  other  perfect  insects.  An  observer,  who 
had  carefully  studied  their  habits,  says,  that  their 
mode  of  working-  is  much  alike,  and  it  is  very  di- 
verting to  see  them  at  it:  their  art  and  contrivance 
are  wonderful,  and  appears  as  if  they  were  given 
them  to  cheer  them  at  their  labour.  They  make  a 
very  particular  musical  noise,  the  sound  of  which 
may  be  heard  at  ten  yards'  distance.  Their  manner 
of  working-  is,  to  moisten  clay  and  temper  it  up  into 
a  little  lump  of  the  size  of  swan-shot.  This  they 
carry  to  build  with.  They  begin  first  at  the  upper 
end  of  the  cell  and  work  downwards  till  it  is  long 
enough  to  contain  the  nymph  or  chrysalis :  after 
they  have  spread  out  their  little  lump  in  a  proper 
manner  to  form  their  little  fabric,  they  set  up  their 
musical  notes,  and  return  to  temper  and  work  up 
more  clay  for  the  next  course.  Thus  they  con- 
tinue alternately  singing  and  working  until  a  cell  is 
finished,  which  is  made  delicately  smooth  within- 
side  :  then,  at  the  farther  end  of  each  cell  they  lay 
an  egg :  after  this,  by  a  surprising  instinct,  they  go 
and  catch  spiders  and  cram  the  cell  full  of  them ; 
but  it  is  farther  wonderful  to  observe,  that  they  only 
in  some  manner  disable  the  spiders,  but  do  not  kill 
them,  which  is  to  answer  this  purpose,  that  they  are 
preserved  alive  till  the  egg  is  hatched.  The  spider 
is  the  food  of  the  embryo ;  having  stored  up  a  suffi- 
ciency of  this  provender,  the  insect  closes  the  cell 
and  proceeds  to  build  the  next  in  the  same  manner. 
The  maggot,  having  eaten  up  all  its  provisions  be- 
fore October,  prepares  for  its  change.  It  lies  all 
the  winter  in  its  chrysalis  state,  and  in  the  spring 
eats  its  way  out  of  its  clay  dwelling. 

Cassigni  furnished  Reaumur  with  an  interesting 
account  of  the  mode  in  which  another  of  these 
wasps  attacks  and  kills  the  cock-roach,  so  injurious 
to  the  housewives  of  tropical  countries.  The  wasp 
is  seen  walking  or  flying  about  in  various  directions, 


116  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [CH.  VI. 

evidently  on  the  look-out  for  game ;  as  soon  as  it 
discovers  a  cock-roach,  it  remains  fixed  for  a  few 
seconds,  during  which  the  two  insects  appear  to  eye 
each  other.  The  wasp,  then  pouncing  on  its  prey, 
seizes  it  by  the  muzzle ;  it  then  insinuates  its  body 
under  that  of  the  cock-roach,  and  inflicts  a  wound. 
As  soon  as  the  wasp  feels  sure  that  the  fatal  poison 
has  been  introduced  into  the  body  of  its  enemy,  the 
insect  appears  to  be  aware  of  its  effect,  and  takes  a 
turn  or  two  to  give  it  time  to  work.  Having  thus 
departed  for  a  few  instants,  it  returns,  and  is  sure 
to  find  the  cock-roach  motionless  on  the  spot  where 
it  had  been  left.  Naturally  timid,  the  cock-roach 
appears  to  be  at  this  juncture  totally  incapable  of 
resistance,  and  suffers  its  enemy  to  seize  its  head 
and  drag  it  backwards  towards  a  little  hole  situate 
in  the  next  wall.  Sometimes  the  way  is  long*,  and 
then  the  wasp  stops  and  takes  a  turn  or  two  to 
breathe  and  recruit  its  strength  ere  it  proceeds  to 
finish  its  task.  Sometimes  it  lays  down  the  unre- 
sisting cock-roach  and  makes  its  way  alone  to  the 
nest,  probably  to  reconnoitre  whether  any  obstacles 
impede  the  way:  returning  in  a  few  moments,  it 
again  lays  hold  of  its  prey.  M.  Cassigni,  having, 
during  the  absence  of  the  wasp,  removed  the  cock- 
roach to  a  little  distance,  was  highly  amused  with 
the  restless  embarrassment  of  this  creature,  when 
the  prey  seemed  to  have  been  thus  snatched  from 
its  gripe.  But  the  cock-roach  having  been  ulti- 
mately dragged  to  the  den  of  the  insect,  the  hardest 
part  of  its  task  was  yet  to  be  accomplished ;  for  the 
aperture  by  which  the  wasp  could  enter  was  by  no 
means  roomy  enough  to  admit  the  larger  frame  of 
the  cock-roach :  the  insect,  however,  went  in,  and 
applied  its  utmost  force  to  drag  its  prey  in  after. 
But  these  efforts  were  too  often  quite  unsuccessful. 
The  remedy  adopted  in  this  dilemma  would  not  have 
disgraced  a  reasonable  creature.  It  quietly  lopped 
off  the  wings  and  legs  of  the  cock-roach,  and  thus 


CH.  VI.]  THE    SOLITARY  WASP.  117 

iiminished  the  bulk  of  the  animal,  without  depriving 
the  young-  worm  of  any  part  of  the  food  destined 
for  its  support.  Those  solitary  wasps  effect  every 
thing-  by  main  force ;  they  seldom  or  never  resort 
to  stratagem,  but  boldly,  and  with  the  most  im- 
petuous courage,  pounce  at  once  upon  their  prey. 
Sometimes  they  light  upon  certain  species  of  spi- 
ders which  fabricate  no  web,  but  hunt  about  fields 
in  pursuit  of  game.  In  the  hope  of  catching  some 
unwary  fly,  the  treacherous  spider  counterfeits 
death  ;  when  the  wasp  darts  on  it  with  a  blow,  and 
rising  into  the  air,  amputates  all  the  limbs  of  its 
victim. 

There  is  one  species  of  these  insects  which  carry 
on  an  exterminating  warfare  against  the  honey  and 
the  solitary  bees.  As  soon  as  one  of  these  bee- 
devouring  wasps  has  prepared  in  the  sand  a  little 
hole  destined  to  become  a  habitation  for  its  own 
young,  and  a  grave  for  the  bee,  it  makes  towards 
those  flowers  to  which  its  prey  resort ;  the  moment 
one  of  these  little  creatures  has  been  perceived  by 
the  wasp,  it  darts  on  its  victim  with  the  rapidity  of 
lightning,  and  with  one  blow  of  its  sting  puts  an 
end  to  its  industrious  and  useful  career. 

As  each  female,  says  Latreille,  lays  five  or  six 
eggs,  it  follows  that  she  destroys  as  many  bees.  In 
a  space  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet  long,  he  counted 
fifty  or  sixty  females  preparing  their  nests;  conse- 
quently they  would  kil)  three  hundred  bees.  Now 
supposing  a  surface  of  ground  of  two  square 
leagues  infested  in  fifty  places  by  a  small  number 
of  these  apivorous  females,  they  would  destroy 
within  this  range  fifteen  thousand  bees. 

Reaumur  says,  that  in  the  woods  and  plains  of 
the  Isle  of  France  no  hive-bees  are  to  be  found — 
while  they  abound  and  yield  much  honey  in  the 
Isle  of  Bourbon ;  and  the  absence  of  this  useful  in- 
sect is  perhaps  justly  attributed  to  the  great  number 
of  wasps  which  infest  the  former  island. 


118  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  VII. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


Their  Industry— Affection  for  their  Young— Courage— Their  Anger- 
Unite  in  Myriads  for  War  and  Extermination— The  Fallow  Ants — 
The  Sanguine  Ants — The  Legionary  Ants — Attack  other  Ants,  and 
reduce  them  to  Slavery. 

THE  history  of  the  insects  now  to  be  described 
presents  examples  of  an  industry  which  has  become 
proverbial,  and  traits  of  affection  and  feeling  which 
would  do  honour  to  our  own  species.  Love  and 
courage,  patience  and  perseverance,  almost  all  the 
higher  virtues  of  human  nature,  when  arrived  at 
the  highest  pitch  of  earthly  perfection,  seem  to  be 
the  ordinary  springs  of  action  in  the  ant. 

Of  ants,  as  of  other  social  insects,  the  largest 
portion  of  the  community  consists  of  neuters  ;  be- 
ings possessing  the  most  exquisite  sentiments  of 
maternity  unalloyed  by  passion ;  so  that  from  their 
birth  to  their  death  they  live,  think,  and  act  only  for 
the  offspring  of  another. 

The  instincts  of  this  insect  are,  indisputably, 
more  extraordinary  than  those  of  any  other  in  the 
whole  range  of  animated  nature.  The  ancients 
magnified  them  into  fabulous  miracles.  Pliny  talks 
of  an  Indian  ant  as  big  as  an  Egyptian  wolf,  of  the 
colour  of  a  cat,  which  entered  the  bowels  of  the 
earth  in  search  of  gold,  of  which  they  are  said  to 
have  been  plundered  during  the  winter  by  the  human 
inhabitants  of  those  regions. 

But  exaggeration  and  credulity  apart,  the  real 
habits  and  proceedings  of  these  insects  are  so  ex- 
traordinary, that  they  would  stagger  our  belief,  if 
not  confirmed  by  such  observers  as  Huber  and  La- 
treille. 
,  Their  nests  contain  three  kinds  of  individuals — 


~TH.  VII. J  ANTS.  119 

males ;  females,  which  have  wings ;  and  neuters, 
which  are  destitute  of  these  appendages. 

"  In  the  warm  days  which  occur  from  the  end  of 
July  to  the  beginning  of  September,  and  sometimes 
later,  the  habitations  of  the  various  species  of  ants 
may  be  seen  swarming  with  winged  insects ;  these 
are  the  males  and  females,  preparing  to  quit  forever 
the  scene  of  their  nativity  and  education.  Every 
thing  is  in  motion ;  and  the  silver  wings,  contrasted 
with  the  jet  bodies  which  compose  the  animated 
mass,  add  a  degree  of  splendour  to  the  interesting 
scene.  The  bustle  increases,  till  at  length  the  males 
rise,  as  it  were,  by  general  impulse  into  the  air,  and 
the  females  accompany  them :  the  whole  swarm  al- 
ternately rises  and  falls  with  a  slow  movement,  to 
the  height  of  about  ten  feet ;  the  males  flying  ob- 
liquely with  a  rapid  zigzag  motion,  and  the  females, 
though  following  the  general  movement  of  the 
column,  appearing  suspended  in  the  air,  like  bal- 
loons ;  and  having  their  heads  turned  towards  the 
wind." 

Sometimes  the  swarm  of  a  whole  district  unite 
their  infinite  myriads,  and  seen  at  a  distance,  says 
M.  Gliditsch,*  produce  an  effect  very  much  resem- 
bling an  aurora  borealis,  when  from  the  border  of 
the  cloud  appear  several  columns  of  flame  and  va- 
pour, attended  with  a  variety  of  luminous  rays  and 

*  A  species  of  ant,  called  by  Linnaeus  the  formica  sacchivora,  ap- 
peared in  such  torrents  in  the  island  of  Granada,  and  destroyed  the 
sugar-canes  so  completely  by  undermining  their  roots,  that  a  reward  of 
£20,000  was  offered  to  aiiy  one  who  should  discover  an  effectual  mode 
of  destroying  them. 

They  descended  from  the  hills  in  a  flood,  arid  filled  not  only  the  plan- 
tation, but  the  roads  for  miles.  Domestic  quadrupeds  perished ;  and 
rats,  mice,  and  reptiles,  were  devoured  by  them,  and  even  birds  were 
so  harassed  when  they  alighted  as  quickly  to  die.  Nothing  opposed 
their  match  :  they  blindly  rushed  into  the  streams  and  were  drowned 
in  such  countless  myriads,  that  the  aggregation  of  their  tiny  carcasses 
dammed  up  the  waters,  and  formed  a  bridge  for  others  to  pass  over. 
The  large  fires  lighted  in  their  paihs  were  speedily  extinguished  by  the 
rush  of  their  masses,  and  had  not  Providence  swept  them  away  in  the 
torrents  of  a  terrible  hurricane  in  1780,  every  thing  must  have  fallen 
before  them — Introducti&n  to  Entomology ,  vol.  i.  p.  185. 


120  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [cH.  VII 

lines,  resembling  forked  lightning  confined  in  its 
brilliancy.  The  noise  emitted  by  the  countless 
myriads  of  these  creatures  is  not  so  loud  as  the  hum 
of  a  single  wasp,  and  the  slightest  breath  scatters 
them  abroad.  In  the  midst  of  these  numberless 
males  the  females  become  fecundated,  and  the 
greater  portion  of  the  former  sex  immediately  pe- 
rishing, become  the  food  of  birds  or  of  fish.  So 
numerous  are  they,  that  Dr.  Bromley  says  they 
formed  a  column  on  the  water  where  they  had  fallen, 
five  or  six  miles  long,  eight  or  ten  feet  broad,  and 
six  inches  deep. 

The  females  which  escape  are  destined  to  found 
new  colonies,  and  at  first  to  do  all  the  work  of 
neuters ;  in  this  particular  resembling  the  mother 
wasp :  but  prior  to  their  constructing  a  new  habi- 
tation, they  make  themselves  voluntary  prisoners, 
by  throwing  off  their  wings.  So  extraordinary  a 
dismemberment  requires  to  be  supported  by  the  tes- 
timony of  an  eye-witness. 

Accordingly,  Huber,  who  made  the  experiment, 
states,  "that  having  induced  an  ant  to  mount  a 
straw,  he  placed  it  on  a  table  sprinkled  with  a  little 
earth,  and  covered  it  with  a  glass  bell ;  scarcely  did 
she  perceive  the  earth  which  covered  the  bottom 
of  her  abode,  when  she  extended  her  wings,  with 
some  effort  bringing  them  before  her  head,  crossing 
them  in  every  direction,  throwing  them  from  side 
to  side,  and  producing  so  many  singular  contortions, 
that  her  four  wings  fell  off  at  the  same  moment,  in 
his  presence.  After  this  change,  she  reposed, 
brushed  her  corslet,  traversed  the  ground,  evidently 
seeking  a  place  of  shelter;  she  partook  of  the 
honey  he  gave  her,  and  at  last  found  a  hiding-place 
under  some  loose  earth." 

Huber  might  well  be  astonished  at  the  coolness 
with  which  the  female  ant  appeared  to  throw  off 
her  wings  :  one  would  have  thought  that  as  much 
proportionate  suffering  would  have  been  felt  in  her 


CH.  VII.]  ANTS.  121 

tiny  frame  from  the  loss  of  these  members,  as  in 
ours  from  the  amputation  of  all  our  limbs ;  but  in- 
sects in  general  do  not  appear  to  be  sensible  of 
much  pain.  A  wasp  will  walk  about  and  even  eat 
after  its  body  has  been  cut  into  two,  and  a  dragon 
fly  will  voraciously  devour  its  prey  after  the  removal 
of  its  abdomen. 

Having  cast  off  her  wings,  the  fecundated  female 
begins  to  prepare  a  habitation  for  herself.  In  some 
cases,  however,  the  workers  do  not  allow  all  the 
females  to  quit  the  old  nest ;  but  detaining  some  of 
those  which  have  been  impregnated,  clip  their  wings 
and  keep  them  close  prisoners  so  long,  that  at  last 
they  become  reconciled  to  their  fate,  and  prepare  to 
lay  eggs.  As  if  still  afraid  that  the  impregnated 
female  should  depart,  a  single  ant  is  appointed  to 
watch  her  motions  and  supply  her  wants  ;  no  Argus 
appears  to  be  more  vigilant :  it  mounts  on  her  ab- 
domen, resting  its  two  posterior  legs  on  the  ground: 
these  sentinels  are  constantly  relieved.  As  soon  as 
an  egg  is  deposited,  the  female  becomes  the  object 
of  the  tender  care  of  the  neuters,  and  as  a  mother 
she  receives  those  attentions  which  she  would  in 
vain  have  solicited  as  a  virgin.  A  court,  composed 
of  from  ten  to  fifteen  individuals,  says  Huber,  con- 
tinually follows  her;  she  is  unceasingly  the  object 
of  their  care  and  caresses ;  all  are  eager  to  collect 
around  her,  offer  her  nourishment,  and  assist  her 
with  their  mandibles  in  making  her  way  through 
difficult  and  ascending  passages  ;  they  also  lead  her 
through  all  the  different  quarters  of  the  ant-hill. 
The  eggs  taken  up  by  the  labourers  at  the  instant 
of  their  being  laid,  are  collected  around  her.  When 
she  seeks  repose,  a  group  of  ants  environ  her ;  se- 
veral females  live  in  the  same  nest,  and  show  no 
rivalry ;  each  has  her  court,  they  pass  each  other 
uninjured,  and  sustain  in  common  the  population 
of  the  ant-hill ;  but  they  possess  no  power,  which 
it  would  seem  is  lodged  exclusively  with  the  neuters. 
L— L 


122  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [cH.  VII. 

"  In  whatever  apartment,"  says  Gould,  "  a  queen 
condescends  to  be  present,  she  commands  obedience 
and  respect ;  a  universal  gladness  spreads  itself 
throughout  the  whole  cell,  which  is  expressed  by 
particular  acts  of  joy  and  exultation.  They  have  a 
peculiar  way  of  skipping-  and  leaping,  and  standing 
upon  their  hind-legs,  and  prancing  with  the  others. 
These  frolics  they  make  use  of,  both  to  congratulate 
each  other  when  they  meet,  and  to  show  their  regard 
for  their  queen;  some  of  them  gently  walk  over 
her,  others  dance  around  her,  and  she  is  generally 
encircled  with  a  cluster  of  attendants." 

Their  affection  is  extended,  it  would  appear  from 
Huber,  even  beyond  life ;  for  when  a  pregnant  fe- 
male dies,  five  or  six  labourers  rest  near  her,  and  for 
some  days  lick  and  brush  her  constantly,  either  with 
a  hope  to  revive  that  little  particle  of  cherished  dust, 
or  as  a  tribute  of  their  instinctive  love  for  the  de- 
parted. 

If  we  observe  the  ant-hill,  we  shall  see  so  many 
traits  of  this  affection  of  the  worker  towards  the 
female,  as  to  satisfy  us  that  the  imprisonment  and 
mutilation  she  had  undergone  at  the  hands  of  the 
former  are  dictated  alone  by  that  instinct  which 
prompts  the  ant  to  continue  its  kind.  The  republic 
of  ants  is  not  annually  dissolved  like  that  of  bees 
and  wasps. 

Attachment  to  the  female  is  not  the  only  instance 
of  affection  evinced  by  these  insects ;  they,  as  well 
bees,  appear  to  recognise  each  other  even  after  a  long 
absence.  Huber,  having  taken  an  ant-hill  from  the 
woods,  placed  it  in  his  glass  hive ;  finding  that  he 
had  a  superabundance  of  ants,  he  allowed  some  of 
them  to  escape,  and  these  formed  a  nest  in  his  gar- 
den. Those  which  were  in  the  hive  he  carried  into 
his  study,  and  observed  their  habits  for  four  months, 
after  which  period  he  placed  the  hive  in  the  garden 
within  fifteen  paces  of  the  natural  nest.  Immedi- 
ately, the  ants  established  in  it  recognised  their  for- 


CH.  VII.]  ANTS.  123 

mer  companions,  with  whom  they  had  held  no  com- 
munication for  four  months ;  they  caressed  them 
with  their  antennae,  and  taking-  them  up  in  their 
mandibles,  led  them  to  their  own  nest.  Presently 
others  arrived  in  crowds  and  carried  off  the  fugitives 
in  a  similar  manner ;  and  venturing  into  the  artificial 
ant-hill,  in  a  few  days  caused  such  a  desertion  that 
it  was  wholly  depopulated. 

The  above  anecdote  seems  to  prove  that  ants  have 
a  language  of  dumb  signs,  of  which  the  organs  are 
the  antennae.  As  yet,  the  proofs  of  this  antennal 
language  have  been  drawn  from  the  affections  of 
these  creatures,  but  more  striking  ones  are  derived 
from  their  passions.  For  there  are  few  animals 
in  which  the  passions  assume  a  more  deep  and 
threatening  aspect ;  they  unite  them  in  myriads  for 
the  purposes  of  war  and  extermination. 

It  would  perhaps  be  too  much  to  say,  that  the  war- 
fare which  takes  place  among  ants  calls  forth  bright 
traits  of  character,  and  occasions  the  exercise  of 
virtues,  which  under  no  other  combination  of  cir- 
cumstances could  be  exhibited.  Yet  Latreille,  after 
he  had  cut  off  the  antennae  of  an  ant,  saw  another 
approach  it  as  if  compassionating  the  loss  of  a 
member  as  dear  to  the  owner  as  the  pupil  of  our  eye 
to  us,  and  after  caressing  the  sufferer,  pour  into  the 
wound  a  drop  of  a  liquid  from  its  own  mouth. 

The  causes  which  give  rise  to  these  wars  are,  no 
doubt,  as  important  to  them  as  those  which  urge 
human  monarchs  to  devastate,  and  human  heroes  to 
struggle  for  victory.  The  ants  will  dispute  furiously 
about  a  few  square  feet  of  dust ;  and  such  an  object 
is  of  equal  magnitude  and  importance  to  them,  as  a 
river,  or  a  mountain,  to  an  emperor.  Sometimes  a 
straw,  the  carcass  of  a  worm,  a  single  grain  of 
wheat,  will  cause  myriads  to  engage  in  deadly  strife, 
and  leave  the  miserable  inches  of  surrounding  earth 
thickly  strewed  with  the  pigmy  dead.  Sometimes 
a  nobler  aim  will  cause  them  to  defend  to  the  utter- 


124  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [CH.  VII. 

most  their  homes  and  their  young,  from  the  ma- 
rauding" ambition  of  a  neighbouring-  hill.  "  Alas !" 
says  Bacon,  "  the  earth  with  men  upon  it  will  not 
seem  much  other  than  an  ant-hill,  where  some  ants 
carry  corn,  and  some  carry  their  young-,  and  some 
go  empty,  and  all  to  and  fro  around  a  little  heap  of 
dust." 

"  If  we  wish  to  behold,"  says  P.  Huber,  "  regular 
armies  wage  war  in  all  its  forms,  we  must  visit  the 
forests  in  which  the  fallow  ants  establish  their  do- 
minion over  every  insect  within  their  territory :  we 
shall  there  see  populous  and  rival  cities  and  regular 
roads,  diverging  from  the  ant-hill,  like  so  many 
radii  from  a  centre,  and  frequented  by  an  immense 
number  of  combatants;  wars  between  hordes  of  the 
same  species,  for  they  are  naturally  enemies,  and 
jealous  of  any  encroachment  upon  the  territory 
which  surrounds  their  capital.  It  is  in  these  forests 
I  have  witnessed  the  inhabitants  of  two  large  ant- 
hills engaged  in  a  spirited  combat;  two  empires 
could  not  have  brought  into  the  field  a  more  nume- 
rous or  more  determined  body  of  combatants. 

"  Both  armies  met  half-way  from  their  respective 
habitations,  and  the  battle  commenced :  thousands 
of  ants  took  their  stations  upon  the  highest  ground, 
and  fought  in  pairs,  keeping  firm  hold  of  their  an- 
tagonists by  their  mandibles ;  while  a  considerable 
number  were  engaged  in  the  attack,  others  were 
leading  away  prisoners ;  the  latter  made  several  in- 
effectual endeavours  to  escape,  as  if  aware  that 
upon  reaching  the  camp  a  cruel  death  awaited  them. 
The  field  of  battle  occupied  a  space  of  about 
three  feet  square :  a  penetrating  odour  exhaled  on 
all  sides ;  and  numbers  of  dead  ants  were  seen  co- 
vered with  venom.  The  ants  composing  groups 
and  chains  laid  hold  of  each  others  legs  and  pincers, 
and  dragged  their  antagonists  on  the  ground ;  these 
groups  formed  successively.  The  fight  usually  com- 
meneed  between  two  ants,  who,  seizing  each  other 


CH.  VII.]  ANTS.  125 

by  the  mandibles,  raised  themselves  upon  their  hind- 
legs,  to  allow  of  their  bringing  their  abdomen  for- 
ward, and  spurting  their  venom  upon  their  adversary : 
they  were  frequently  so  wedged  together,  that  they 
fell  on  their  sides,  and  fought  a  long  time  in  that 
situation  in  the  dust :  shortly  afterward  they  raised 
themselves,  when  each  began  dragging  its  adversary ; 
but  when  their  force  happened  to  be  equal,  the 
wrestlers  remained  immoveable,  and  fixed  each 
other  to  the  ground,  until  a  third  carne  to  decide  the 
contest.  It  more  commonly  happened  that  both 
ants  received  assistance  at  the  same  time,  when  the 
whole  four,  keeping  firm  hold  of  a  foot  or  antenna, 
made  ineffectual  attempts  to  win  the  battle.  In  this 
way  they  sometimes  formed  groups  of  six,  eight,  or 
ten,  firmly  locked  all  together ;  the  group  was  only 
broken,  when  several  warriors  from  the  same  re- 
public advanced  at  the  same  time,  and  compelled 
the  enchained  insects  to  let  go  their  hold,  and  then 
the  single  combats  were  renewed :  on  the  approach 
of  night,  each  party  retired  gradually  to  their  own 
city. 

"  On  the  following  day,  before  dawn,  the  ants  re- 
turned to  the  field  of  battle — the  groups  again  formed 
— the  carnage  recommenced  with  greater  fury  than 
on  the  preceding  evening,  and  the  scene  of  combat 
occupied  a  space  of  six  feet  by  two :  the  event  re- 
mained for  a  long  time  doubtful ;  about  midday  the 
contending  armies  had  removed  to  the  distance  of  a 
dozen  feet  from  one  of  their  cities,  whence,  I  con- 
clude, that  some  ground  had  been  gained :  the  ants 
fought  so  desperately,  that  they  did  not  even  perceive 
my  presence,  and  though  I  remained  close  to  the 
armies,  not  a  single  combatant  climbed  up  my  legs. 

The  ordinary  operations  of  the  two  cities  were 
not  suspended,  and  in  all  the  immediate  vicinity  of 
the  ant-hills  order  and  peace  prevailed ;  on  that  side 
on  which  the  battle  raged  alone  were  seen  crowds 
of  these  insects  running  to  and  fro,  some  to  join  the 
L2 


126  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  Vll. 

combatants,  and  some  to  escort  the  prisoners.  This 
war  terminated  without  any  disastrous  results  to 
either  of  the  two  republics  ;  long-continued  rains 
shortened  its  duration,  and  each  band  of  warriors 
ceased  to  frequent  the  road  which  led  to  the  enemy's 
camp." 

The  astonishing  part  of  this  singular  detail  is,  the 
instinct  which  enables  each  ant  to  know  its  own 
party.  Of  the  same  species,  alike  in  form,  size,  fa- 
culties, and  arms,  it  yet  rarely  happens  that  two  of 
the  same  side  attack  each  other;  and  when  this 
takes  place,  says  Huber,  "  those  which  are  the  ob- 
jects of  this  temporary  error  caress  their  compa- 
nions with  their  antennae,  and  readily  appease  their 
anger."  We  can  comprehend  the  existence  of  an 
instinct  which  shall,  at  all  times,  cause  an  animal  to 
build  its  habitation  after  a  distinct  fashion,  but  a 
spontaneous  combination  of  faculties  seems  to  take 
place  in  the  conduct  of  these  wars.  The  insects 
march,  countermarch,  take  prisoners,  distinguish 
each  other,  retreat ;  in  short,  do  all  that  man  would 
do  under  similar  circumstances.  Nothing  like  the 
fatality  of  instinct  is  perceptible.  These  wars  were 
accidental,  might  never  have  happened,  and  perhaps 
only  happen  in  one  community  out  of  ten.  Neither 
are  they  conducted  alike  in  all  cases,  but  are  ob- 
viously modified  according  to  the  varying  circum- 
stances of  time  and  place.  These  very  fallow  ants, 
when  they  attack  the  sanguine  ants,  "for  example, 
adopt  a  system  of  ambuscade  and  stratagem;  and 
the  sanguine  ants,  if  too  hardly  pressed,  send  off  a 
courier  to  their  ant-hill  for  farther  assistance,  and 
immediately,  says  Huber,  a  considerable  detachment 
leaves  the  sanguine  city,  advances  in  a  body,  and 
surrounds  the  enemy. 

That  ants,  being  such  determined  warriors,  should 
occasionally  have  games  of  mimic  war  is  not  sur- 
prising. "  I  visited,"  says  Huber,  "  one  of  the  fal- 
low ant-hills,  exposed  to  the  sun,  and  sheltered  to 


CH.  VII.]  ANTS.  127 

the  north :  the  ants  were  heaped  on  one  another, 
enjoying-  the  temperature  of  the  surface  of  the  nest ; 
none  of  them  were  at  work.  This  immense  multi- 
tude of  insects  presented  the  appearance  of  a  liquid 
in  a  state  of  ebullition,  upon  which  the  eye  had  some 
difficulty  in  resting  :  but  when  I  examined  the  con- 
duct of  each  ant,  I  saw  them  approach  each  other, 
moving-  their  antennae  with  astonishing  rapidity; 
with  slight  movements  of  their  fore-feet  they  patted 
the  lateral  parts  of  the  head  of  the  other  ants.  After 
these  gestures,  resembling  caresses,  they  were  ob- 
served to  raise  themselves  on  their  hind-legs  by 
pairs,  struggle  together,  seize  each  other  by  a  man- 
dible, foot,  or  antenna,  and  then  immediately  relax 
their  hold  to  recommence  the  attack.  They  fast- 
ened on  the  thorax,  or  abdomen,  embraced  and 
overthrew  each  other,  then  raised  themselves  by 
turns,  taking  their  revenge  without  producing  any 
mischief.  They  did  not  spurt  forth  their  venom  as 
in  their  hostile  combats,  nor  retain  their  adversary 
with  the  obstinacy  which  they  manifest  in  their  se- 
rious quarrels.  I  frequently  visited  this  ant-hill, 
which  almost  always  presented  the  same  spectacle, 
but  I  never  saw  any  quitting  it  wounded  or  maimed  : 
thus  there  is  reason  to  believe  that,  industrious  as 
they  are,  the  ant  has  its  hours  of  repose,  and  its 
season  for  enjoyment ;  its  serious  duties,  and  its 
pleasurable  gambols." 

Connected  with  the  subject  of  the  warfare  of  ants 
is  the  history  of  a  species  of  this  insect,  not  exist- 
ing in  these  islands,  called,  by  Huber,  the  Amazon, 
or  Legionary  Ant,  the  Formica  rufescens  of  Latreille. 
It  is  both  warlike  and  powerful,  and,  unlike  the  rest 
of  the  tribe,  its  habits  are  far  from  being  industrious. 
Enough  has  been  said  to  show  that  the  proceedings 
of  some  insects  so  nearly  resemble  human  actions, 
as  to  excite  our  greatest  wonder :  but  the  habits  of 
the  legionary  ant  are  still  more  surprising  than 
the  proceedings  of  the  chiefs  which  we  have  just 


128  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [CH.  VII. 

described ;  it  is  actually  found  to  be  a  slave-dealer, 
attacking  the  nests  of  other  species,  stealing  their 
young,  rearing  them,  and  thus,  by  shifting  all  the 
domestic  duties  of  their  republic  on  strangeis,  escap- 
ing from  labour  themselves.  This  curious  fact,  first 
discovered  by  Huber,  has  been  confirmed  by  Latre- 
ille,  and  is  admitted  by  all  naturalists.  The  slave 
is  distinguished  from  its  master  by  being  of  a  dark 
ash-colour,  so  as  to  be  entitled  to  the  name  of  Negro, 
— an  epithet  now  appropriated  to  the  Formica  fusca, 
or  ash-coloured  ants.  Their  masters  are  light  in 
colour.  The  negro  is  an  industrious,  peaceable, 
stingless  insect ;  the  legionary,  a  courageous,  armed, 
and  lazy  one.  The  relation  between  them  is  not, 
however,  that  which  subsists  between  a  task-master 
and  his  bondsman,  but  a  strong  attachment  is  mutu- 
ally felt — another  instance  of  the  modification  of 
instinct,  education  obliterating  in  the  ash-coloured 
ant  all  its  natural  antipathy  to  another  species.  All 
that  we  know  concerning  these  extraordinary  crea- 
tures being  derived  from  Mr.  P.  Huber,  the  follow- 
ing is  a  short  summary  of  his  account. 

While  walking  near  Geneva,  between  four  and 
five  in  the  evening  of  the  17th  of  June,  1804,  this 
distinguished  naturalist  observed  an  army  of  the 
rufescent  or  legionary  ants  traversing  the  road. 
The  column  occupied  a  space  of  ten  inches  in  length, 
by  four  in  breadth ;  they  rapidly  quitted  the  road, 
passed  a  thick  hedge,  entered  a  pasture-ground, 
wound  through  the  grass  without  breaking  the  line 
of  march,  and  approached  a  nest  inhabited  by  the 
negro  or  ash-coloured  ant.  Some  of  its  inhabitants 
were  guarding  the  entrance,  but  on  the  discovery 
of  an  approaching  army,  they  darted  forth  on  the 
advancing  party.  The  alarm  was  communicated 
to  the  interior,  whence  their  companions  rushed  in 
numbers  to  join  in  the  defence  of  their  underground 
residence.  The  bulk  of  the  army  of  the  legionaries 
about  two  paces  off,  now  quickened  their 


CH.  VII.]  ANTS.  129 

march,  and  in  an  instant  the  whole  battalion  fell 
upon  and  overthrew  the  negroes,  who,  after  a  short 
and  obstinate  conflict,  retired  and  took  refuse  in  the 
lowest  parts  of  their  nest.  The  legionaries  now 
mounted  the  hillock ;  some  took  possession  of  the 
principal  avenues,  while  others  effected  a  new  breach 
with  their  teeth,  so  as  to  admit  the  remainder  of  the 
army.  Having  thus  taken  the  city  by  assault,  they 
remained  in  it  only  a  few  minutes :  returning  by  the 
apertures  through  which  they  had  entered,  each 
carried  in  its  mouth  either  a  larva,  or  a  pupa,  and 
scampered  away  without  order  or  regularity.  M. 
Huber  followed  them  for  some  time,  but  lost  sight 
of  them  in  a  cornfield.  Wishing  to  observe  the 
assaulted  city  again,  he  retraced  his  steps,  and  saw 
a  small  number  of  ash-coloured  labourers  perched 
on  the  stalks  of  plants,  holding  in  their  mouths  the 
few  larvae  which  they  had  succeeded  in  rescuing 
from  pillage. 

The  next  morning,  Huber,  taking  the  same  road, 
with  the  hope  of  once  more  seeing  a  similar  scene, 
discovered  a  large  ant-hill  tenanted  by  legionaries. 
At  five  in  the  evening,  provided  the  weather  be  fine, 
and  the  temperature  67°  Fahrenheit  in  the  shade, 
these  sally  out.  During  the  other  part  of  the  day 
they  appear  to  do  little ;  but  at  this  hour  they  be- 
come restless,  assemble  on  the  outside  of  the  city, 
move  round  it  in  circles:  a  signal  is  then  given, 
which  they  pass  from  one  to  the  other,  striking,  as 
they  proceed,  with  their  antennae  and  forehead,  the 
breasts  of  their  companions;  these,  in  their  turn, 
approach  those  advancing,  and  communicate  the 
same  signal — it  is  that  of  departure — as  the  result 
satisfactorily  proves.  Those  which  receive  the 
intimation  are  instantly  seen  to  put  themselves  on 
the  march;  the  column  becomes  organized;  and 
not  a  single  amazon  remains  near  the  garrison. 
There  is  no  commander-in-chief,  every  ant  is  in  turn 
first,  each  seeking  to  be  foremost.  A  small  number 


J30  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [CH.  VII. 

may,  however,  be  observed  constantly  returning  to 
the  rear :  this  is  probably  the  means  by  which  the 
whole  army  is  governed. 

With  such  dispositions,  manoeuvres,  and  disci 
pline,  Huber  saw  an  army  of  legionaries  set  out 
for  a  negro  city.  With  their  usual  impetuosity  of 
attack,  one  party  soon  entered,  and  returned  laden 
with  the  young  of  the  assailed  ant-hill ;  a  second 
detachment,  not  meeting  with  equal  success,  sepa- 
rated from  their  companions,  and  fell  on  another 
negro  colony,  where  they  met  with  ample  booty; 
after  which  the  whole  number  of  legionaries  marched 
to  their  nest  in  two  divisions.  As  they  approached, 
Huber  saw,  to  his  astonishment,  a  great  number  of 
the  very  same  species  which  had  been  pillaged,  all 
around  the  nest  of  the  legionaries.  Was  this  a  di- 
version made  by  carrying  the  war  into  the  enemy's 
territory  ?  No :  the  return  of  the  legionaries  ex- 
cited no  alarm;  on  the  contrary,  the  negro  ants 
were  seen  to  approach  these  warriors,  caress  them 
with  their  antennae,  offer  them  nourishment,  as  is 
the  custom  among  their  own  species,  while  the 
legionaries  consigned  their  prisoners  to  them  to  be 
carried  to  the  interior  of  the  nest. 

In  this  way  the  same  negro  colony  was  observed 
to  be  attacked  three  several  times,  and  each  time 
with  complete  success;  the  last  attack,  however, 
was  made  under  different  circumstances  from  the 
first  two :  the  negroes,  as  if  conscious  of  their  ex- 
posed situation,  had  lost  no  time  in  throwing  up 
trenches,  barricading  the  several  entrances,  and  re- 
inforcing the  guard  of  the  interior ;  "  they  had  more- 
over, brought  together  all  the  little  pieces  of  wood 
and  earth  within  their  reach ;  with  these  they  had 
blocked  up  the  passage  to  their  habitation,  in  which 
they  had  posted  themselves  in  full  force." 

"  The  legionaries  at  first  hesitating  to  approach, 
rambled  about  or  returned  to  the  rear ;  they  then  on 
a  given  signal  rushed  forward  en  masse,  with  great 


CH.  VII.]  ANTS.  131 

impetuosity,  removing  with  their  teeth  and  feet  the 
many  obstacles  which  impeded  their  progress : 
having1  succeeded,  they  entered  the  ant-hill  hy  hun- 
dreds, notwithstanding-  the  resistance  of  its  inhabit- 
ants, and  carried  off  their  prize  to  the  garrison." 

In  these  attacks  the  legionaries  never  take  the 
old  negroes  prisoners,  knowing  perhaps  that  at  an 
adult  age  the  love  of  home,  with  all  its  associations, 
would  be  sad  obstacles  to  transplantation ;  nor  is 
their  contest  attended  with  loss  of  blood ;  they  seek 
the  young,  and  these  being  obtained,  they  speedily 
decamp  with  their  booty.  Nor  do  they  ever  begin 
their  predatory  warfare  before  the  end  of  May,  or 
beginning  of  June ;  if  they  commenced  at  an  earlier 
period  to  purloin  the  young  negroes,  they  might 
secure  a  large  supply  of  captives,  but  then  it  would 
principally  consist  of  males  and  females,  and  these 
it  seems  nature  does  not  permit  them  to  seize :  for 
she  has  ordained  that,  in  the  ant-hills  destined  to 
pillage,  the  males  and  females  shall  be  produced 
earlier  than  the  males  and  females  of  the  legiona- 
ries ;  and  it  is  only  after  their  own  males  and  females 
have  undergone  the  last  change,  that  the  instinct 
which  prompts  them  to  steal  the  young  of  others 
begins  to  operate.  Hence,  Huber  has  distinctly 
ascertained,  and  Latreille  has  confirmed  the  discove- 
ry, that  the  legionary  ant-hill  contains  male,  female, 
and  neuter  amazons,  together  with  negro-neuters, 
but  never  negro  males  or  females.  The  amazon 
female,  after  having  cast  off  her  wings,  lays  the 
foundation  of  her  own  nest,  and  performs  all  the 
duties  of  a  labourer.  There  is  no  doubt  that  these 
creatures  have  the  ability  to  work,  and  do  so ;  but 
as  soon  as  they  obtain  slaves  to  do  that  for  them 
which  they  ought  to  do  themselves,  they  relinquish 
every  domestic  duty,  and  during  the  day  "  tranquilly 
wait,  at  the  bottom  of  their  subterranean  abode,  the 
hour  of  departure,  reserving  their  strength,  courage, 


132  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [CH.  VII, 

and  the  address  which  they  so  well  know  how  to 
display,  for  the  purposes  of  war." 

On  the  negroes  reared  among  them  they  depend 
not  only  for  house  and  home,  but  even  for  food ;  and 
these  faithful  and  affectionate  servants  begrudge 
neither  labour  nor  pains,  in  providing  for  their  mas- 
ters. Huber  enclosed  thirty  amazons  with  several 
pupae  and  larvae  of  their  own  species,  and  twenty 
negro  pupae,  in  a  glass  box,  the  bottom  of  which 
was  covered  with  a  thick  layer  of  earth ;  honey  was 
given  to  them,  so  that,  although  cut  off  from  their 
auxiliaries,  the  amazons  had  both  shelter  and  food  ; 
at  first  they  appeared  to  pay  some  little  attention 
to  the  young;  this  soon  ceased,  and  they  neither 
traced  out  a  dwelling,  nor  took  any  food ;  in  two 
days  one-half  died  of  hunger,  and  the  other  re- 
mained weak  and  languid :  commiserating  their  con- 
dition, he  gave  them  one  of  their  black  companions : 
this  little  creature,  unassisted,  formed  a  chamber  in 
the  earth,  gathered  together  the  larvae,  put  every 
thing  into  complete  order,  and  preserved  the  lives 
of  those  which  were  about  to  perish. 

In  order  to  obtain  a  more  intimate  knowledge  of 
the  facts,  the  same  observer  of  nature  opened  and 
deranged  an  ant-hill  in  which  the  negroes  and  ama- 
zons dwelt  together ;  in  doing  so,  the  aspect  of  their 
city  was  so  altered  as  not  to  be  recognised  by  the 
amazons,  and  they  were  seen  wandering  at  random 
over  its  surface.  The  negroes,  however,  appeared 
to  be  well  acquainted  with  the  new  localities  of  the 
ant-hill,  and  relieved  them  from  their  embarrass- 
ment, by  taking  them  up  gently  in  their  mandibles, 
and  conducting  them  to  the  galleries  already  pierced. 
"An  amazon  was  frequently  seen  to  approach  a 
negro,  and  play  upon  its  head  with  its  antennae, 
when  the  latter  immediately  seized  the  former  in 
its  pincers,  and  deposited  it  at  one  of  the  entrances ; 
the  amazon  ant  then  unrolled  itself,  caressed  once 


CH.  VII.]  ANTS.  133 

more  its  kind  friend,  and  passed  into  the  interior  of 
the  nest ;  now  and  then  the  negro  lost  its  way  too, 
and  wandered  about  carrying  the  amazon. 

"  I  observed  one,"  continues  Huber,  "  after  inef- 
fectual windings,  take  the  precaution  of  laying  its 
burden  on  the  ground :  the  amazon  remained  on  the 
same  spot  until  the  negro  returned  to  its  assistance, 
which,  having  well  ascertained  and  examined  one 
of  the  entrances,  resumed  its  load,  and  bore  it  into 
the  interior." 

If  the  entrance  to  any  gallery  happened  to  be  ob- 
structed, the  negro,  depositing  its  burden,  went  to 
remove  the  obstruction,  and  again  taking  up  the 
amazon,  introduced  it  into  the  nest.  It  often  hap 
pens  that  the  ant-hill  is  not  sufficiently  commodious  , 
in  this  case  the  negroes  alone  decide  upon  the  ex- 
pediency of  a  removal,  and  choose  a  spot  for  the 
new  dwelling ;  they  set  about  building,  and  as  soon 
as  the  works  are  sufficiently  advanced,  appear  eager 
to  conduct  the  legionaries  to  the  new  city :  for  this 
purpose,  each  negro  takes  up  an  amazon,  which  it 
carries  to  the  chosen  spot,  so  that  a  long  line  of 
these  faithful  creatures  may  be  seen  extending  all 
the  way  from  the  old  to  the  new  town ;  their  charges 
are  then  deposited  at  the  various  entrances,  when 
other  negroes  come  out,  welcome  their  arrival,  and 
usher  them  into  the  interior  of  their  new  abode. 

The  negro  is  not  the  only  species  of  ant  subju- 
gated by  the  legionaries.  The  mining  ants  are  at- 
tacked for  a  similar  purpose ;  but  as  these  are  a 
much  more  resolute  race  than  the  pacific  ash- 
coloured  tribe,  the  legionaries  are  obliged  to  vary 
their  tactics. 

"In  one  of  these  forays,  the  amazons,"  says 
Huber,  "  proceeded  like  a  torrent  along  a  deep  dike, 
and  marched  in  a  more  compact  body  than  ordinary, 
and  in  a  short  time  reached  the  nest  they  proposed 
to  attack.  As  soon  as  the  legionaries  began  enter- 
ing the  subterranean  city,  the  miners  rushed  out  in 
L— M 


134  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [CH.  VII. 

crowds,  and  while  some  fell  upon  the  invaders  with 
great  spirit,  others  passed  through  the  scene  of  con- 
test, solely  occupied  in  bearing  off  to  a  place  of 
safety  their  larvae  and  pupae." 

The  arnazon  army  was  often  despoiled  of  its 
booty,  but  their  superior  address  and  agility  at  length 
gave  them  the  advantage,  and  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
they  were  seen  returning  homewards  loaded  with 
prey — not,  however,  straggling,  and  in  a  file,  as  after 
an  assault  upon  the  negroes,  but  in  a  compact  mass ; 
a  precaution  so  much  the  more  necessary,  as  the 
courageous  miners  disputed  every  inch  of  ground, 
following  and  attacking  them  until  they  arrived 
within  ten  paces  of  the  amazonian  citadel. 

Besides  the  amazons,  there  is  another  slave- 
making  species,  called  the  formica  sanguinea;  a 
species  which  has  not  as  yet  been  discovered  in  this 
island.  They  are  larger  than  the  legionaries :  unlike 
them,  however,  they  share  the  labour  with  their 
slaves.  Their  mode  of  attack  is  very  different  from 
that  of  the  legionaries ;  the  latter  cany  every  thing 
by  sheer  impetuosity ;  the  former  never  pour  in  im- 
mense masses,  but  attack  in  small  divisions :  they 
sometimes  go  one  hundred  and  fifty  paces,  to  attack 
a  negro  habitation,  and  the  various  divisions  suc- 
ceed each  other  by  means  of  couriers,  which  are 
evidently  sent  off  to  fetch  assistance  from  the  gar- 
rison. 

"  On  the  15th  July,  at  10  A.  M.,"  says  Huber,  "  a 
small  division  of  sanguine  ants  was  despatched 
from  the  garrison,  and  arrived  in  quick  march  near 
a  nest  of  negro  ants,  situated  twenty  paces  distant, 
around  which  they  took  their  station.  The  inhabit- 
ants perceiving  the  strangers,  rushed  forth,  and 
made  several  prisoners;  the  sanguine  ants  ad- 
vanced no  farther :  they  appeared  to  be  waiting  for 
reinforcements ;  from  time  to  time,  little  companies 
arrived  from  the  garrison  to  strengthen  the  brigade  : 
thus  reunited  they  advanced  a  little  nearer,  and 


CH.  VII.]  ANTS.  135 

seemed  more  willing  to  run  the  risk  of  a  general 
engagement ;  but  in  proportion  as  they  approached 
the  negro  dwelling,  the  more  solicitous  did  they 
seem  to  despatch  couriers  to  the  garrison,  who,  arriv- 
ing in  great  haste,  produced  considerable  alarm, 
when  another  division  was  immediately  despatched 
to  join  the  army.  The  negroes  took  up  a  position 
of  about  two  feet  square,  in  front  of  their  nest, 
where  nearly  their  whole  force  was  assembled, 
awaiting  the  enemy."  In  the  interim,  the  pupae 
were  removed  to  the  side  of  the  nest  facing  the  field 
of  battle,  so  that  they  might  be  conveyed  away  at  a 
moment's  warning,  affording  a  trait  of  what  Huber 
calls  prudence,  and  certainly  a  marvellously  singular 
one  it  is.  When  fighting  with  the  amazons,  the  im- 
petuosity of  the  attack  leaves  the  negro-ant  no  time 
for  thought,  but  in  their  contests  with  the  sanguine 
ants,  they  vary  their  tactics  so  as  to  meet  the  new 
circumstances.  The  latter  insects  being  sufficiently 
reinforced,  make  the  attack,  and  band  after  band  pil- 
lage and  carry  away  their  booty,  not  in  a  few  minutes, 
as  is  done  by  the  amazons,  but  during  the  whole  day ; 
and  if  the  pillaged  city  should  suit  them  better  than 
their  own,  they  remove  to  it  on  the  following  morn- 
ing ;  at  least  so  it  appears  in  an  instance  observed 
by  Huber.  It  is  rare,  according  to  that  author,  that 
they  do  not  change  at  least  once  during  the  year. 
They  certainly  inspire  the  negroes  with  great  terror, 
for  these,  once  attacked  by  them,  generally  forsake 
their  nest  for  ever. 

"  To  their  own  slaves  they  are  much  attached ; 
the  sanguine  ants  are  often  besieged  by  the  fallow 
ants :  on  these  occasions  they  carry  their  servants 
to  the  lowest  chambers,  and  these,  as  if  aware  of 
the  intention  of  their  removal,  immediately  begin 
barricading  the  different  entrances,  with  every  spe- 
cies of  material  lying  within  their  reach. 

"  The  sanguine  arits  evince  extraordinary  foresight 
in  these  engagements ;  for  while  one  party  is  fight- 


136  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [cH.  VII. 

ing,  another  is  engaged  in  bearing  away  the  negroes, 
who  immediately  begin  constructing  a  new  dwelling 
at  a  considerable  distance  from  the  scene  of  com- 
bat." 

Such  is  the  extraordinary  recital  contained  in  that 
delightful  work  of  Huber's,  every  fact  of  which  has 
been  confirmed  by  the  subsequent  observations  of 
the  accurate  and  learned  Latreille.  It  would  seem 
that  the  negro  and  miner  ants  are  both  occasionally 
enslaved  and  dwell  together  in  the  sanguine  ant-hills. 
And  Huber  has  brought  up  legionaries  and  sanguine 
ants,  which  are  both  slave-makers,  with  negroes,  in 
one  common  dwelling. 

The  wonders  of  the  ant-tribe  are  far  from  being 
exhausted;  we  have  seen  them  subjugating  their 
own  species,  and  reducing  them  to  the  condition  of 
domestic  slaves.  But  a  more  singular  trait  in  their 
manners  remains  to  be  stated.  They  keep  and  feed 
certain  other  insects,  from  which  they  extract  a 
sweet  and  nutritious  liquid,  in  the  same  manner  as 
we  obtain  milk  from  cows.  There  are  two  species 
of  insects  from  which  the  ant-tribe  abstract  this 
juice — the  aphides,  or  plant-lice,  and  the  gall-insects. 
Linnaeus,  and  after  him  other  naturalists,  have  called 
these  insects  the  milch  cattle  of  the  ants ;  and  the 
term  is  not  inapplicable.  In  the  proper  season,  any 
person,  who  may  choose  to  be  at  the  pains  of  watch- 
ing their  proceedings,  may  see,  as  Linnaeus  says, 
the  ants  ascending  trees  that  they  may  milk  their 
cows,  the  aphides.  The  substance  which  is  here 
called  milk  is  a  saccharine  fluid,  which  these  insects 
secrete ;  it  is  scarcely  inferior  to  honey  in  sweetness, 
and  issues  in  limpid  drops  from  the  body  of  the 
insect,  by  two  little  tubes  placed  one  on  each  side 
just  above  the  abdomen.  The  aphides  insert  their 
suckers  into  the  tender  bark  of  a  tree,  and  employ 
themselves  without  intermission  in  absorbing  its 
sap;  which,  having  passed  through  the  digestive 
system  of  the  insect,  is  discharged  by  the  organs 


CH.  VII.]  ANTS.  137 

just  described.  When  no  ants  happen  to  be  at  hand 
to  receive  this  treasure,  the  insects  eject  it  to  a  dis- 
tance by  a  jerking-  motion,  which  at  regular  intervals 
they  give  their  bodies.  When  the  ants,  however, 
are  in  attendance,  they  carefully  watch  the  emission 
of  this  precious  fluid,  and  immediately  suck  it  down. 
The  ants  not  only  consume  this  fluid  when  volun- 
tarily ejected  by  the  aphides,  but  what  is  still  more 
surprising1,  they  know  how  to  make  them  yield  it 
at  pleasure ;  or,  in  other  terms,  to  milk  them.  On 
this  occasion  the  antennse  of  the  ants  discharge  the 
same  functions  as  the  fingers  of  a  milk-maid :  with 
these  organs,  moved  very  rapidly,  they  pat  the  ab- 
domen of  an  aphis  first  on  one  side  and  then  on  the 
other :  a  little  drop  of  the  much  coveted  juice  imme- 
diately issues  forth,  which  the  ant  eagerly  conveys 
to  its  mouth.  The  milk  of  one  aphis  having  been 
thus  exhausted,  the  ant  proceeds  to  treat  others  in 
the  same  manner,  until  at  length  it  is  satiated,  when 
it  returns  to  its  nest. 

A  still  more  singular  fact,  connected  with  this 
branch  of  the  natural  economy  of  these  insects, 
remains  to  be  stated.  These  cows  are  not  always 
considered  the  common  property  of  a  whole  tribe ; 
on  the  contrary,  some  of  them  are  appropriated  to 
the  exclusive  use  of  the  inhabitants  of  a  particular 
hill  or  nest ;  and  to  keep  these  cows  to  themselves, 
they  exert  all  their  skill  and  industry.  Sometimes 
the  aphides  inhabiting  the  branches  of  a  particular 
tree,  or  the  stalks  of  a  particular  plant,  are  thus  ap- 
propriated; and  if  any  vagrant  foreigners  attempt 
to  share  this  treasure  with  its  true  owners,  the  lat- 
ter, exhibiting  every  symptom  of  uneasiness  and 
anger,  employ  all  their  efforts  to  drive  them  away. 

Some  species  of  ants  go  in  search  of  these  aphides 
on  the  vegetables  where  they  feed ;  but  there  are 
others,  as  the  yellow  ant,  which  collect  a  large  herd 
of  a  kind  of  aphis,  which  derives  its  nutriment 
from  the  roots  of  grass  and  other  plants.  These 
M3 


138  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [cH.  VII, 

milch  kinc  they  remove  from  their  native  plants 
and  domesticate  in  their  habitations,  affording,  :is 
Httber  jUStly  observes,  ;m  example  of  almost  human 
industry  and  sagacity.  On  turning  iif)  the  nest  of 
the  yellow  ant,  this  naturalist  one  day  s;iw  ;i  variety 
of  aphides  either  wandering  about  in  the  different 
chambers,  or  attached  to  the  roots  of  plants  whieh 
penetrated  into  the  interior.  The  ants  appeared  to 
be  extremely  jealous  of  their  stock  of  cattle  ;  they 
followed  them  about  and  caressed  them,  whenever 
they  wished  for  the  honeyed  juice,  which  the  aphis 
never  refused  to  yield.  On  the  slightest  appearance 
of  danger,  they  took  them  up  in  their  mouths,  and 
gently  removed  them  to  a  more  sheltered  and  more 
secure  spot.  They  dispute  with  other  ants  for 
them,  and  in  short  watch  them  as  keenly  as  any 
pastoral  people  would  guard  the  herds  which  form 
their  wealth.  Other  species,  which  do  not.  gather 
the  aphides  together  in  their  own  nest,  still  seem  to 
look  on  them  as  private  property  ;  they  set  sentinels 
to  protect  their  places  of  resort  and  drive  a.way 
other  ants;  and,  what  is  still  more  extraordinary, 
they  enclose  them  as  a  farmer  does  his  sheep,  to 
preserve  them  not  only  from  rival  ants,  but  also 
from  the  natural  enemies  of  the  aphis. 

If  the  branch  on  which  the  aphides  feed  be  con- 
veniently situated,  the  ants  have  recourse  to  a  very 
effectual  expedient  to  keep  oil"  all  trespassers:  they 
construct  around  the  branch  containing  the  aphides 
a  tube  of  earth,  or  some  other  material,  and  in  this 
enclosure,  formed  near  the  nest  and  generally  com- 
municating with  it,  they  secure  their  cattle  against 
all  interlopers. 

The  brown  ant  has  been  observed  by  I  Tuber  to 
build  a  chamber  around  the  stem  of  a  thistle;,  in  such 
a  way  that  the  stalk  passed  through  the  centre;,  sc 
that  from  their  ant-hill  they  had  only  to  climb  the 
thistle-stalk,  in  order  to  enter  this  cattle-fold,  which 
was  suspended  in  mid-air.  The  interior,  smooth 


r;n.  vn.]  ANTS.  139 

and  compact,  was  entirely  formed  of  earth;  it  con- 
tained ;ui  extensive  family  of  in-<  hollered 
from  the  inclemencies  of  the  weather,  and  protected 
from  their  enemies.     These  edifices  an;  not  always 
near  the    hottoiri  of   the   thi.-itle-stalk; 
•  ;ie  at  the  height  of  fivo  feet  from 
the  ground.     "Th'                                   ays  he,  "are 
'•ornrnon :   we  cannot  attribute  them  to 
h-ibitual   routine."     Indeed,  the  modes  of  pre- 
serving their  cattle  seem  to  he  as  various  as  those 
:  \>y  man.                mts  receive  their  food 
from  the  aphidet  wliieh  suek  the  jiiiees  of  the  CC 
mon   plaintain,  and  the                     take  their  station 
ii'Mf  the  flower  of  tlie  plant;  a-  sor>n  as  the  flowers 
wither,  t                  -':t-eows   take  shelter  under  the 
••>,  leaves;  upon  whieh  the  ants,  which  before 
Up  to  them,  now  surround  them  with  a 
mud  wall,  arid,  making                     gallery  hv  way  of 
•nunieation  hf.-twr^eri  their  nest  and  tne  "pad- 
•  food  from  them  at  their  convenience 
and  pleasure-. 

During  autumn,  winter,  and  spring,  many  species 

Jndes*     Indeed,  in  winter  they  would 

horrors  of  a  famine,  did  they  not 

rely  for  food  on  their  cattle;  for  though  they  become 

torpid  when  exposed  to  intense  cold,  yet,  for  the 

1    part,  the   depth  of  their  nests    preserves  for 

;tly  high  to  prevent  this 

Th<-ir  milch  cows  aie  men  kept  on 

the  roots  of  the  plants  which  penetrate  the  interior 

of  the  nest,  and  furnish  an  abundant  supply  of  liquid 

in  which  their  keepers  delight.     And  not  only  is  the 

full-grown  animal  kept,  but  its  eggs  are  watched 

and  rrinrded  with  that  care  which  warrant  us  in 

_'  that  the  ant  knows  their  full  value. 

>  f  real  consequence  to  the  ants  that  the  hatch- 

of  the  eggs  of  tne  aphides  should  take  place  as 

early  in  the  spring  as  possible,  in  order  to  ensure  an 

early  supply  of  food  for  their  colony;  and  with  the 


140  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [CH.  VII. 

view  of  hastening  this  event,  they  deposite  them  in 
the  warmest  part  of  their  dwelling;. 

The  mode  in  which  the  habitations  of  the  ants  are 
constructed  varies  according  to  the  species  of  this 
insect.  Some  excavate  their  dwellings,  and  are 
hence  denominated  mining  ants ;  others  build  them 
on  the  surface  of  the  ground,  and  are,  in  consequence, 
termed  mason  ants ;  and  a  third  species  take  up  their 
residence  in  hollow  trees.  But  whatever  may  be 
the  mode  in  which  they  form  their  habitations,  they 
always  contrive  to  shelter  themselves  completely 
from  the  rain.  The  longest  and  loftiest  chamber  is 
placed  near  the  centre  of  the  nest,  and  here  all  the 
galleries  terminate;  the  subterranean  chambers  are 
horizontal.  In  the  evening,  the  aperture  of  the 
nests  of  some  ants  is  always  closed,  and  in  the 
morning  reopened;  but  according  to  Huber,  the 
brown  ant  has  been  seen  to  work  during  a  moon- 
light night. 

Having  in  the  daytime  noticed  some  aphides  upon 
a  thistle,  he  examined  it  again  in  the  irght  about 
eleven  o'clock,  and  found  his  ants  bus/  milking 
their  cows.  At  the  same  hour,  another  night,  he 
observed,  on  an  elder-tree,  the  little  negro-ant  en- 
gaged in  the  same  employment. 

From  the  result  of  their  labours,  it  might  be  in- 
ferred that  they  were  actuated  by  a  common  me- 
chanical instinct,  yet  this  is  by  no  means  the  cases 
no  two  apartments  are  alike  in  the  same  nest ;  and 
no  two  nests  have  exactly  the  same  arrangements. 
Each  ant  seems  capable  of  conceiving  a  particular 
plan,  which  is  in  some  manner  made  intelligible  to 
the  rest,  and  practically  -executed.  If  pieces  of 
straw  be  placed  conveniently  for  its  purpose,  an  ant, 
after  careful  examination,  proceeds  to  make  use  of 
this  appropriate  supply  of  materials.  In  another 
case  it.  would  have  to  drag  bits  of  stubble,  then 
arrange  them,  and  then  build.  The  operations  of 
these  insects  vary  very  much  from  the  .beautiful  and 


CH.  VII.]  ANTS.  141 

geometrically  precise  labour  of  bees.  Indeed  they 
seem  to  act  so  completely  according  to  the  exi- 
gencies of  each  case,  that  the  moving  power  which 
impels  and  guides  their  operations  approaches  so 
closely  to  human  reason,  that  to  establish  a  distinc- 
tion appears  extremely  difficult. 

The  strength  and  perseverance  of  ants  are  per- 
fectly wonderful.  Kirby  states,  that  he  once  saw 
two  or  three  horse-ants  hauling  along  a  young  snake 
not  dead,  which  was  of  the  thickness  of  a  goose- 
quill.  St.  Pierre  relates,  that  he  saw  a  number  of 
ants  carrying  off  a  Patagonian  centipede :  they  had 
seized  it  by  all  its  legs,  and  bore  it  along  as  work- 
men do  a  large  piece  of  timber.  Nothing  can  divert 
them  from  any  purpose  which  they  have  undertaken 
to  execute.  In  warm  climates  they  may  be  fre- 
quently seen  marching  in  columns  which  exceed  all 
power  of  enumeration ;  always  pursuing  a  straight 
course,  from  which  nothing  can  cause  them  to 
deviate :  if  they  come  to  a  house  or  other  building, 
they  storm  or  undermine  it ;  if  a  river  cross  their 
path,  they  will  endeavour  to  swim  over  it,  though 
millions  perish  in  the  attempt. 

It  is  related  of  the  celebrated  conqueror  Timour, 
that  being  once  forced  to  take  shelter  from  his  ene- 
mies in  a  ruined  building,  he  sat  alone  many  hours : 
desirous  of  diverting  his  mind  from  his  hopeless 
condition,  he  fixed  his  observation  upon  an  ant  which 
was  carrying  a  grain  of  corn  (probably  a  pupa) 
larger  than  itself,  up  a  high  wall.  Numbering  the 
efforts  that  it  made  to  accomplish  this  object,  he 
found  that  the  grain  fell  sixty-nine  times  to  the 
ground ;  but  the  seventieth  time  it  reached  the  top 
of  the  wall.  "  This  sight,"  said  Timour,  "  gave  me 
courage  at  the  moment,  and  I  have  never  forgotten 
the  lesson  it  conveyed." 

The  Jesuit  Dobrizhofler,  in  his  History  of  the 
Abipones,  gives  the  folio  wing  very  singular  account 
of  the  ravages  of  ants  known  in  Paraguay.  He 


142  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [CH.  VII. 

furnishes  no  means  of  ascertaining  the  species 
whose  proceedings  he  describes.  "  The  largest 
ants  which  I  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  are 
formidable  on  account  of  their  undermining  build- 
ings. They  make  burrows,  with  infinite  labour, 
under  churches  and  houses,  digging  deep,  sinuous 
meanders  in  the  earth,  and  exerting  their  utmost 
strength  to  throw  out  the  loosened  sods.  Having 
got  wings,  they  fly  off  in  all  directions,  on  the  ap- 
proach of  heavy  showers,  with  the  same  ill  fortune 
as  Icarus,  but  with  this  difference,  that  he  perished 
in  the  sea,  they  on  the  ground,  to  which  they  fall 
when  tbr  i'r  wings  are  wetted  by  the  rain.  Moreover 
those  holes  in  the  earth  by  which  the  ants  used  first 
to  pass  admit  the  rain-water,  which  inundates  the 
caves  of  the  ants,  and  undermines  the  building, 
causing  the  wooden  beams  that  uphold  the  wall  and 
roof,  first  to  give  way,  and,  unless  immediately  sup- 
ported, to  fall  along  with  the  house.  This  is  a  com- 
mon spectacle  in  Paraguay.  The  whole  hill  on 
which  St.  Joachim  was  built  was  covered  with  ant- 
hills, and  full  of  subterranean  cavities.  Our  house 
and  the  one  adjoining:  suffered  much  from  these 
insects.  The  chief  altar  was  rendered  useless  for 
many  days ;  for,  it  being  rainy  weather,  the  lurking 
ants  flew  in  swarms  from  their  caves,  and  not  being 
able  to  support  a  long  flight,  fell  upon  the  priest,  the 
altar,  and  sacred  utensils,  defiling  every  thing.  Ten 
outlets  by  which  they  broke  from  their  caves  being 
closed  up,  next  day  they  opened  twenty  more.  One 
evening  there  arose  a  violent  storm,  with  horrible 
thunder  and  lightning.  A  heavy  shower  seemed  to 
have  converted  our  court-yard  into  a  sloping  lake, 
the  wall  itself  withstanding  the  course  of  the 
waters.  My  companion  betook  himself  to  my  apart- 
ment. Meantime,  an  Indian,  the  churchwarden, 
arrives,  announcing  that  the  floor  of  the  church  was 
beginning  to  gape,  and  the  wall  to  open  and  be  in- 
clined. I  snatched  up  a  lamp  and  ran  to  the  place, 


CH.  VII.]  ANTS.  143 

but  had  hardly  quitted  the  threshold  of  my  door, 
when  I  perceived  a  gap  in  the  earth ;  and  before  I 
was  aware  of  any  danger,  sunk  up  to  the  shoulders 
in  a  pit,  in  the  very  place  of  the  chief  altar,  but 
scrambled  out  of  it,  by  the  help  of  the  church- 
warden, as  quickly  as  I  had  got  in,  for  under  that 
altar  the  ants  seemed  to  have  made  their  metropolis : 
the  cavern  was  many  feet  long  and  wide,  so  that  it 
had  the  appearance  of  a  wine-cellar.  As  often  as 
earth  was  thrown  in  by  the  Indians  to  fill  it,  so  often 
was  it  dug  out  by  the  ants.  In  this  universal  trepi- 
dation, all  the  Indians  were  called  to  prop  the  gaping 
wall  of  the  church  with  rafters  and  planks.  The 
greatness  of  the  danger  rendered  it  impossible  to 
remain  quiet,  whatever  arts  were  adopted.  That 
same  night  I  removed  from  my  apartment,  which 
was  joined  to  the  church  with  the  same  beams  and 
rafters,  in  such  a  manner,  that  if  one  fell,  the 
other  could  not  avoid  being  involved  in  the  ruin.  I 
have  read  that  in  Guiana,  rocks  and  mountains 
have  been  undermined,  walls  thrown  down,  and 
people  turned  out  of  their  habitations  by  ants,  which 
I  can  easily  believe,  having  myself  witnessed  simi- 
lar or  even  more  incredible  events. 

"  In  Paraguay  I  was  made  thoroughly  acquainted 
with  the  powers  of  ants.  They  are  weak  and,  com- 
pared with  many  other  insects,  diminutive,  but  num- 
bers, labour,  and  unanimity  render  them  formidable, 
and  endow  them  with  strength  superior  to  their 
size.  In  the  plains,  especially  those  near  the  Pa- 
raguay, I  have  seen  ant-hills,  like  stone  pyramids, 
three  or  more  ells  high,  with  a  broad  base,  and  com- 
posed of  a  solid  material  as  hard  as  stone :  these 
are  the  storehouses  and  castles  of  the  ants,  from 
the  summits  of  which  they  discern  sudden  inunda- 
tions, and  safely  behold  the  floating  carcasses  of  less 
industrious  animals.  Elsewhere  I  have  seen  an  im- 
mense plain,  so  coveied  with  low  ant-hills,  that  the 
horse  could  not  move  a  step  without  stumbling.  In 


144  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  VII. 

the  plains  you  may  often  observe  a  broad  path, 
through  which  you  would  swear  the  legions  of 
Xerxes  might  have  passed.  The  Spaniards  hollow 
out  these  pyramidal  heaps,  and  use  them  for  ovens, 
or  reduce  them  to  a  powder,  which,  mixed  with 
water,  serves  admirably  to  floor  houses.  Pavements 
of  this  kind  resemble  stone  in  appearance  and  hard- 
ness, and  are  said  to  prevent  the  breeding  of  fleas 
and  other  insects.  But  hear  what  mischief  ants 
commit  within  doors.  They  flock  in  a  long  and 
almost  endless  company  to  the  sacks  of  wheat,  and  in 
a  journey  uninterrupted  by  day  or  night  (if  there  be  a 
moon),  carry  off  by  degrees  some  bushels.  They 
will  entirely  strip  fruit  trees  of  their  leaves,  unless 
you  twist  a  cow's  tail  round  the  trunk  to  hinder  their 
ascent,  and  eat  away  the  crops  so  completely  that 
you  would  think  they  had  been  cut  with  a  sickle. 
Moreover,  ants  of  various  kinds  are  extremely  de- 
structive both  to  vineyards  and  gardens,  devouring 
vegetables  and  pulse  to  the  very  root.  Set  a  young 
plant  in  the  ground,  and  the  next  day  you  will  seek 
it  in  vain.  They  refrain  from  pepper  on  account  of 
its  pungency.  If  you  leave  meat,  either  dressed  or 
raw,  in  your  apartment,  you  will  soon  find  it  black- 
ened with  swarms  of  ants.  They  devour  all  sorts 
of  trash,  the  very  carcasses  of  beetles,  toads,  and 
snakes.  On  returning  to  my  apartment,  I  found  a 
little  bird  which  I  kept  in  a  cage  devoured  by  ants. 
Nor  do  they  abstain  from  the  bodies  of  sleeping 
persons.  In  the  dead  of  the  night  an  army  of  ants 
will  issue  from  the  wall  or  pavement,  get  upon  the 
bed,  and  unless  you  instantly  make  your  escape, 
sting  you  all  over.  This  happened  so  frequently  in 
the  Guarany  colonies,  that  we  were  obliged  to  burn  a 
candle  at  night ;  for  lighted  sheets  of  paper  thrown 
upon  the  swarm  are  the  only  means  of  driving  them 
away.  The  Portuguese  have  an  old  saying,  that  the 
ants  are  queens  of  Brazil.  Certainly  we  have  found 
them  the  sovereigns  of  Paraguay.  There  may  be 


CH.  VIII.]  THE    WHITE    ANT.  145 

said  to  be  more  trouble  in  conquering  these  insects, 
than  all  the  savages  put  together ;  for  every  contri- 
vance hitherto  devised  serves  only  to  put  them  to 
flight,  not  banish  them  effectually." 


CHAPTER  VHL 

TERMITES,    OR   WHITE    ANTS. 

Their  Destructiveness — Clear  the  Ground  of  atl  dead  vegetable  Matter 
— Societies  composed  of  four  sorts  of  Individuals— Eaten  as  Food  by 
the  Indians— Appear  'in  countless  'Myriads  at  the  end  of  the  Rainy 
Season — Prodigious  Fertility  of  the  Queen— Size,  Form,  and  Interior 
Arrangements  of  their  Hills — Marching  Ants. 

ALMOST  all  that  we  know  concerning  the  habits 
and  instincts  of  these  curious  animals  is  derived 
from  an  account  published  by  Smeathman,  in  the 
"  Philosophical  Transactions"  for  1781.  The  pro- 
ceedings of  this  insect-tribe,  as  detailed  in  that 
paper,  are  so  singular,  that  they  cannot  fail  to  prove 
interesting  to  the  reader. 

The  termites  are  represented  by  Linnaeus  as  the 
greatest  plagues  of  both  Indies,  and  indeed,  between 
the  Tropics,  they  are  justly  so  considered,  from  the 
vast  damages  and  losses  which  they  cause :  they 
perforate  and  eat  into  wooden  buildings,  utensils,  and 
furniture,  with  all  kinds  of  household  stuff,  and 
merchandise;  these  they  totally  destroy,  if  their 
progress  be  not  timely  stopped.  A  person  residing 
in  the  equinoctial  regions,  although  not  incited  by 
curiosity,  must  be  very  fortunate  if  the  safety  of  his 
property  do  not  compel  him  to  observe  their  habits. 

"  When  they  find  their  way,"  says  Kirby,  "  into 
houses  or  warehouses,  nothing  less  hard  than  metal 
or  glass  escapes  their  ravages.  Their  favourite 
I.-— N 


146  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [CH.  VIII. 

food,  however,  is  wood,  and  so  infinite  is  the  multi- 
tude of  assailants,  and  such  the  excellence  of  their 
tools,  that  all  the  timber  work  of  a  spacious  apart- 
ment is  often  destroyed  by  them  in  a  night.  Out- 
wardly, every  thing  appears  as  if  untouched;  for 
these  wary  depredators,  and  this  is  what  constitutes 
the  greatest  singularity  of  their  history,  carry  on  all 
their  operations  by  sap  or  mine,  destroying  first  the 
inside  of  solid  substances,  and  scarcely  ever  attack- 
ing their  outside,  until  first  they  have  concealed  it 
and  their  operations  with  a  coat  of  clay." 

An  engineer  having  returned  from  surveying  the 
country,  left  his  trunk  on  a  table ;  the  next  morning 
he  found  not  only  all  his  clothes  destroyed  by  white 
ants  or  cutters,  but  his  papers  also,  and  the  latter  in 
such  a  manner,  that  there  was  not  a  bit  left  of  an 
inch  square.  The  black  lead  of  his  pencils  was  con- 
sumed, the  clothes  were  not  entirely  cut  to  pieces 
and  carried  away,  but  appeared  as  if  moth-eaten, 
there  being  scarcely  a  piece  as  large  as  a  shilling 
that  was  free  from  small  holes ;  and  it  was  farther 
remarkable,  that  some  silver  coin,  which  was  in  the 
trunk,  had  a  number  of  black  specks  on  it,  caused 
by  something  so  corrosive,  that  they  could  not  be 
rubbed  off,  even  with  sand.  "  One  night,"  says 
Kemper,  "  in  a  few  hours,  they  pierced  one  foot  of 
the  table,  and  having  in  that  manner  ascended,  car- 
ried their  arch  across  it,  and  then  down,  through  the 
middle  of  the  other  foot,  into  the  floor,  as  good  luck 
would  have  it,  without  doing  any  damage  to  the 
papers  left  there."* 

The  destructiveness  of  these  insects  is,  perhaps, 
one  of  the  most  efficient  means  of  checking  the  per- 
nicious luxuriance  of  vegetation  within  the  tropics ; 
no  large  animals  could  effect  in  months  what  the 
white  ant  can  execute  in  weeks ;  the  largest  trees 
which,  falling,  would  rot,  and  render  the  air  pesti- 

*  Hist.  Japan,  vol.  ii.  p.  127. 


CH.  VIII.]  THE    WHITE   ANT.  147 

lential,  are  so  thoroughly  removed,  that  not  a  grain 
of  their  substance  is  to  be  recognised.  Not  only  is 
the  air  freed  from  this  corrupting  matter,  but  the 
plants  destroyed  by  the  shade  of  these  bulky  giants 
of  the  vegetable  world  are  thus  permitted  to  shoot. 

In  those  countries,  the  white  ants  answer  another 
purpose ;  they  serve  for  food :  in  some  parts  of  the 
East  Indies,  the  natives  catch  the  winged  insects 
just  before  their  period  of  emigration,  in  the  fol- 
lowing manner— they  make  two  holes,  the  one  to 
the  windward,  the  other  to  the  leeward :  at  the  lee- 
ward opening  they  place  the  mouth  of  a  pot,  the 
inside  of -which  has  been  previously  rubbed  with  an 
aromatic  herb,  called  Bergera:  on  the  windward 
side  they  make  a  fire  of  stinking  materials,  which 
not  only  drives  these  insects,  but  frequently  the 
hooded  snakes  also,  into  the  pots,  on  which  account 
they  are  obliged  to  be  cautious  in  removing  them. 
By  this  method  they  catch  great  quantities,  of  which 
they  make  with  flour  a  variety  of  pastry,  which  they 
can  afford  to  sell  very  cheap  to  the  poorer  ranks  of 
people  :  when  this  sort  of  food  is  used  too  abun- 
dantly, it  produces  cholera,  "  which  kills  in  two  or 
three  hours." 

It  also  seems  that,  in  some  form  or  other,  these 
insects  are  greedily  eaten  in  other  countries :  thus, 
when,  after  swarming,  shoals  of  them  fall  into  the 
rivers,  the  Africans  skim  them  off  the  surface  with 
calabashes,  and  bringing  them  to  their  habitations, 
parch  them  in  iron  pots  over  a  gentle  fire,  stirring 
them  about  as  is  usually  done  in  roasting  coffee ; 
in  that  state,  without  sauce  or  any  other  addition, 
they  consider  them  delicious  food,  putting  them  by 
handfuls  into  their  mouth  as  we  do  comfits.  "I 
have,"  says  Smeathman,  "eaten  them  dressed  in 
this  way"  several  times,  and  think  them  delicate, 
nourishing,  and  wholesome;  they  are  something 
sweeter,  though  not  so  fat  and  cloying,  as  the  cat- 
terpillar  or  maggot  of  the  palm-tree  snoutbeetle 


148  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH. 

(curculio  palmarurri),  which  is  served  up  at  all  the 
luxurious  tables  of  the  West  Indian  epicures,  par- 
ticularly of  the  French,  as  the  greatest  dainty  of  the 
Western  world." 

The  different  species  of  this  genus  resemble  each 
other  in  form,  in  their  manner  of  living,  and  in  their 
good  and  bad  qualities,  but  differ  as  much  as  birds 
in  the  manner  of  building  their  habitations,  and  in 
the  choice  of  the  material  of  which  they  compose 
them. 

Some  build  on  the  surface  of  the  ground,  or  partly 
above  and  partly  beneath,  and  some  on  the  stems  or 
branches  of  trees,  sometimes  aloft  at  a  vast  height. 

Their  societies  consist  of  five  different  descrip- 
tions of  individuals. 

1.  Workers  or  /arrce,  answering  to  the  neuters  of 
bees.     These  constitute  the  most  numerous  division 
of  the  community;  they  construct  the  nest  and  take 
charge  of  the  young,  until  the  latter  are  capable  of 
providing  for  themselves. 

2.  Nymphs   or  pupae:   which  differ  in  nothing 
from  the  larvae,  except  in  possessing  the  rudiments 
of  wings. 

3.  Neuters:   which  are  known    by  their  large 
heads,  armed  with  very  long  mandibles.      These 
exceed  the  labourers  much  in  bulk,  and  are  in  nu- 
merical proportion  to  the  latter  as  1  to  100.     They 
are  the  soldiers  of  the  community. 

4  and  5.  A  male  and  female  arrived  at  their  full 
state  of  perfection.  Each  community  contains  but 
one  of  each  of  these,  and  they  are  strictly  king  and 
queen ;  they  are  exempt  from  all  the  ordinary  duties 
falling  upon  their  subjects:  when  first  disclosed 
from  the  pupa,  they  have  four  wings ;  but  like  the 
ants,  they  soon  cast  off  these  members.  They  are 
known  from  the  blind  larvae,  pupae,  and  neuters,  by 
their  having  two  large  eyes. 

"  In  this  form,"  says  Smsathman,  "  the  animal 
comes  abroad  during  or  soon  after  the  first  tornado 


CII.  VIII.]  THE  WHITE  ANT.  149 

which  at  the  latter  end  of  the  dry  season  proclaims 
the  approach  of  the  ensuing-  rains,  and  seldom  waits 
for  a  second  or  third  shower,  if  the  first,  as  is  gene- 
rally the  case,  happen  in  the  night  and  bring  much 
wet  after  it. 

"  The  quantities  that  are  to  be  found  next  morn- 
ing all  over  the  surface  of  the  earth,  but  particularly 
in  the  waters,  is  astonishing;  for  their  wings  are 
only  calculated  to  carry  them  a  few  hours,  and  after 
the  rising  of  the  sun,  not  one  in  a  thousand  is  to  be 
found  with  four  wings,  unless  the  morning  continue 
rainy,  when  here  and  there  a  solitary  being1  is  seen, 
winging  its  way  from  one  place  to  another,  as  if 
solicitous  only  to  avoid  its  numerous  enemiesT  par 
ticularly  the  various  species  of  ants  which  are  hunt 
ing  on  every  spray,  on  every  leaf,  and  in  every  pos- 
sible place,  for  this  unhappy  race :  hence  probably 
not  a  pair  in  many  millions  gets  into  a  place  of 
safety  to  fulfil  the  first  law  of  nature,  and  lay  the 
foundation  of  a  new  community. 

•"  Not  only  all  kinds  of  ants,  birds,  and  carnivorous 
reptiles,  as  well  as  insects,  are  upon  the  hunt  for 
them ;  but  the  inhabitants  of  many  countries,  and 
particularly  of  some  parts  of  Africa,  eagerly  seize 
upon  them." 

On  the  following1  morning,  however,  they  are  to 
be  seen  running-  upon  the  ground  in  chase  of  each 
other.  From  one  of  the  most  active,  industrious, 
and  rapacious,  from  one  of  the  most  fierce  and  im- 
placable little  animals  in  the  world,  they  are  now 
become  the  most  innocent,  helpless,  and  cowardly; 
never  making  the  least  resistance  to  the  smallest  ant. 

The  ants  are  to  be  seen  on  every  side  in  infinite 
numbers,  drag-ging  to  their  different  nests  these 
annual  victims  of  the  laws  of  nature.  It  is  won- 
derful that  a  pair  should  ever  escape  so  many  dan- 
gers, and  get  into  a  place  of  safety ;  some,  however, 
do  in  fact  escape,  and  being  found  by  some  of  the 
labouring  insects  that  are  continually  running  about 
N2 


150  NATURAL    HISTORY.  j^CH.  VDI. 

the  surface  of  the  ground  under  their  covered  gal- 
leries, they  are  elected  kings  and  queens  of  new 
states.  All  those  who  have  not  the  good  luck  to  be 
so  preserved,  certainly  perish,  and  most  probably  in 
the  course  of  the  following  day. 

The  manner  in  which  these  labourers  protect  the 
happy  pair  from  their  innumerable  enemies,  not 
only  on  the  day  of  the  massacre  of  almost  all  their 
race,  but  for  a  long  time  after,  justifies  the  use  of  the 
term  "election." 

The  little  industrious  creatures  immediately  en- 
close the  favoured  individuals  in  a  small  chamber 
of  clay,  suitable  to  their  size,  into  which  at  first 
they  have  but  one  entrance  just  large  enough  for  the 
workers  arid  the  soldiers  to  go  in  and  out,  but  much 
too  contracted  to  be  used  by  either  of  the  royal  pair; 
and  when  necessity  obliges  them  to  make  more  en- 
trances, they  are  never  larger:  so  that  of  course 
these  subjects  charge  themselves  voluntarily  with 
the  labour  of  providing  for  the  offspring  of  their 
sovereigns,  as  well  as  of  working  and  of  fighting 
for  them,  until  they  shall  have  raised  a  progeny  ca- 
pable at  least  of  dividing  the  task  with  them. 

About  this  time  a  most  extraordinary  change 
begins  to  take  place  in  the  queen,  to  which  nothing 
similar  is  known  except  in  the  chigoe,  and  in  the 
different  species  of  the  coccus  tribe :  the  abdomen 
begins  gradually  to  enlarge,  and  at  length  acquires 
such  an  enormous  size,  that  an  old  queen  will  have 
it  increased  to  an  extent  which  equals  fifteen  hun- 
dred or  two  thousand  times  the  bulk  of  the  rest  of 


CH.  VIII.]  THE  WHITE  ANT.  151 

her  body,  and  twenty  or  thirty  thousand  times  the 
bulk  of  a  labourer. 

The  skin  between  the  segments  is  distended  in 
every  direction ;  and  at  last  the  segments  are  re- 
moved to  the  distance  of  half  an  inch  from  each 
other,  though  at  first  the  length  of  the  whole  abdo- 
men is  not  half  an  inch ;  they  preserve  their  dark 
brown  colour,  and  the  upper  part  of  the  abdomen  is 
marked  with  a  regular  series  of  brown  bars  from 
the  thorax  ta  the  posterior  part  of  the  abdomen; 
while  the  intervals  between  them  are  covered  with 
a  thin,  delicate,  transparent  skin,  and  appear  of  a 
fine  cream-colour,  a  little  shaded  by  the  dark  hue 
of  the  intestines  and  wateiy  fluid  seen  here  and 
there  beneath. 

Smeathman  conjectures  that  the  animal  must  be 
upwards  of  two  years  old  when  the  abdomen  is  thus 
increased  to  three  inches  in  length:  he  has  some- 
times found  them  of  nearly  twice  that  size :  the  ab- 
domen is  then  of  an  irregular  oblong  shape,  being 
contracted  by  the  muscles  of  every  segment,  and  is 
become  one  vast  matrix  full  of  eggs,  which  make 
long  circumvolutions  through  an  innumerable  series 
of  very  minute  vessels.  This  singular  matrix  is 
not  more  remarkable  for  its  amazing  extension  than 
for  its  peristaltic  motion,  which  resembles  the  un- 
dulation of  waves,  and  continues  incessantly  with- 
out any  apparent  effort  on  the  part  of  the  animal ; 
so  that  there  is  a  constant  protrusion  of  eggs  to  the 
amount,  as  Smeathman  has  frequently  counted  in 
the  case  of  old  queens,  of  sixty  in  a  minute,  or 
eighty  thousand  and  upwards  in  twenty-four  hours. 
These  eggs  are  instantly  removed  by  her  attend- 
ants, of  which  a  sufficient  number  is  always  found 
waiting  in  the  adjacent  chambers,  and  carried  to  the 
nurseries,  which,  in  a  great  nest,  may  be  four  or  five 
feet  distant,  in  a  direct  line,  and  consequently  much 
farther  by  the  winding  galleries  which  conduct  to 
them. 


152  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [CH.  VIH. 

The  nests  of  these  insects  are  usually  termed 
hills  by  natives,  as  well  as  strangers,  from  their  out- 
ward appearance,  which,  being1  more  or  less  conical, 
generally  resemble  the  form  of  a  sugar-loaf;  they 
rise  about  ten  or  twelve  feet  in  perpendicular  height 
above  the  ordinary  surface  of  the  ground. 


They  continue  quite  bare  till  they  reach  the  height 
of  six  or  eight  feet ;  but  in  time  the  dead  barren  clay 
of  which  they  are  composed  becomes  fertilized  by 
the  genial  influence  of  the  elements  in  these  prolific 
climates ;  and  in  the  second  or  third  year,  the  hil- 
lock, if  not  overshaded  by  trees,  becomes  like  the 
rest  of  the  earth,  almost  covered  with  grass  and 
other  plants ;  and  in  the  dry  season,  when  the  herb- 
age is  burnt  up  bv  the  rays  of  the  sun,  it  appears 


CH.  VIII.]  THE  WHITE  ANT.  153 

not  unlike  a  very  large  hay-cock.  "  But  of  all  ex- 
traordinary things  I  observed,"  says  Adanson,  "  no- 
thing struck  me  more  than  certain  eminences,  which, 
by  their  height  and  regularity,  made  me  take  them 
at  a  distance  for  an  assemblage  of  negro  huts,  or  a 
considerable  village,  and  yet  they  are  only  the  nests 
of  certain  insects."* 

Smeathman  has  drawn  a  comparison  between  these 
labours  of  the  termes  and  the  works  of  man,  taking 
the  termes'  labourer  at  one-fourth  of  an  inch  long, 
and  man  at  six  feet  high.  When  a  termes  has  built 
one  inch,  or  four  times  its  height,  it  is  equivalent  to 
twenty-four  feet,  or  four  times  the  height  of  man. 
One  inch  of  the  termes'  building  being  proportionate 
to  twenty-four  feet  of  human  building,  twelve 
inches,  or  one  foot,  of  the  former  must  be  propor- 
tionate to  twelve  times  twenty-four,  or  two  hundred 
and  eighty-eight  feet,  of  the  latter;  consequently, 
when  the  white  ant  has  built  one  foot,  it  has,  in 
point  of  labour,  equalled  the  exertions  of  a  man 
who  has  built  two  hundred  and  eighty-eight  feet ; 
but  as  the  ant-hills  are  ten  feet  high,  it  is  evident 
that  human  beings  must  produce  a  work  of  two 
thousand  eight  hundred  and  eighty  feet  in  height,  to 
compete  with  the  industry  of  their  brother  insect. 
The  Great  Pyramid  is  about  one-fifth  of  this  height ; 
and  as  the  solid  contents  of  the  ant-hill  are  in  the 
same  proportion,  they  must  equally  surpass  the 
solid  contents  of  thai  ancient  wonder  of  the  world. 

Every  one  of  these  hills  consists  of  two  distinct 
parts,  the  exterior  and  the  interior. 

The  exterior  consists  of  one  shell  formed  in  the 
manner  of  a  dome,  large  and  strong  enough  to  en- 
close and  shelter  the  interior  from  the  vicissitudes 
of  the  weather,  and  the  inhabitants  from  the  attacks 
of  natural  or  accidental  enemies.  It  is,  therefore, 
in  every  instance,  much  stronger  than  the  interior 

*  Voyage  to  Senegal. 


154  NATURAL   HIS    ORY.  [CH.  VIH. 

of  the  building1,  which,  being  the  habitable  part,  is 
divided,  with  a  wonderful  degree  of  regularity  and 
contrivance,  into  an  amazing  number  of  apartments 
for  the  residence  of  the  king  and  queen,  and  the 
nursing  of  their  numerous  progeny ;  or  appropriated 
as  magazines,  to  hold  provisions. 

These  hills  make  their  first  appearance  above 
ground  by  a  little  turret  or  two  in  the  shape  of  su- 
gar-loaves, rising  a  foot  or  more  in  height.  Soon 


after,  at  some  little  distance,  while  the  first  turrets 
are  increasing  in  height  and  size,  the  insects  raise 
others,  and  so  go  on,  increasing-  their  number,  and 
widening  their  bases,  till  the  space  occupied  by  their 
under-ground  works  becomes  covered  with  a  series 
of  these  elevations ;  the  centre  turret  is  always  the 
highest ;  the  intervals  between  the  turrets  are  then 
filled  up,  and  the  whole  collected,  as  it  were,  under 
one  dome.  These  interior  turrets  seem  to  be  in- 
tended chiefly  as  scaffolding  for  the  dome ;  for  they 
are,  in  a  great  part,  removed  when  that  has  been 
erected. 

When  these  hills  have  reached  somewhat  more 
than  half  their  height,  they  furnish  a  convenient 
stand,  where  the  wild  bulls  of  the  district  may  be 
seen  to  station  themselves,  while  acting  as  senti- 
nels and  watching  the  rest  of  the  herd  reposing  and 
ruminating'  below ;  thev  are  sufficiently  strong  for 


CH.  VIII.]  THE  WHITE  ANT.  155 

this  purpose.  The  outward  shell,  or  dome,  is  not 
only  of  use  to  protect  the  interior  buildings  from 
external  violence  and  heavy  rains,  but  to  collect  and 
preserve  a  regular  supply  of  heat  and  moisture, 
which  seems  indispensable  for  hatching  the  eggs 
and  rearing  the  young  ones. 

The  royal  chamber,  occupied  by  the  king  and 
queen,  is  manifestly  considered  of  the  most  conse- 
quence, being  always  situated  as  near  the  centre  of 
the  interior  building  as  possible,  and  generally  upon 
a  level  with  the  surface  of  the  ground,  at  a  pace  or 
two  from  the  hillock.  Its  interior  shape  nearly  re- 


sembles half  an  egg,  or  an  obtuse  oval,  not  unlike  a 
long  oven.  In  the  infant  state  of  the  colony  it  is 
scarcely  an  inch  in  length,  but  it  is  enlarged  as  the 
queen  increases  in  bulk,  until  it  reaches  the  length 
of  about  eight  inches. 

Its  floor  is  perfectly  horizontal,  and  about  an  inch 
thick;  the  roof  is  generally  of  the  same  solidity, 
being  formed  of  one  well-turned  oval  arch;  the 
doors  are  made  level  with  the  floor,  equidistant  from 
each  other,  and  just  large  enough  to  admit  a  la- 
bourer, but  not  to  permit  the  exit  of  their  majesties, 
who  are  imprisoned  for  life. 

In  a  large  hillock,  the  royal  chamber  is  surrounded 


156  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [cH.  VIII. 

by  numberless  others  of  different  shapes  and  dimen- 
sions, all  of  them  arched  either  ovally  or  circularly; 
these  communicate  with  one  another  by  means  of 
passages,  and  are  the  waiting-rooms  for  the  attend- 
ants employed  in  removing-  the  eggs  of  the  queen ; 
they  also  lodge  the  soldiers  engaged  in  the  defence 
of  the  colony. 

Next  to  these  are  the  magazines,  in  which  are 
deposited  the  inspissated  exudations  and  juices  of 
trees,  of  various  colours  and  consistency.  Inter- 
mixed with  the  magazines  are  the  nurseries,  differ- 
ing totally  in  construction  from  any  other  part  of 
the  building,  being  composed  of  raspings  of  wood 
cemented  with  gum.  They  are  compact,  and  di 
vided  into  many  very  irregular-shaped  chambers, 


not  one  of  which  is  half  an  inch  wide.  The  nur- 
series are  enclosed  in  chambers  of  clay ;  they  are 
placed  at  first  near  the  royal  cell,  but  as  the  queen 
enlarges,  they  are  removed  to  a  distance,  in  order 
that  room  may  be  made  for  her  increasing  wants. 
In  the  early  state  of  the  hill,  these  nursery-cham- 
bers are  not  bigger  than  ahazelnut;  but  as  it  ad- 
vances, they  become  enlarged  to  the  size  of  a  child's 
head. 
The  intervention  of  these  various  cavities  is  well 


CH.  VIII.]  THE  WHITE  ANT.  167 

calculated  to  regulate  the  temperature  of  the  inte- 
rior. There  are  also  large  subterraneous  galleries, 
to  which  the  Roman  sewers  are  not  to  be  compared, 
when  the  size  of  the  worker  is  taken  into  account. 
Some  of  these  are  thirteen  inches  in  the  bore,  ex- 
tending more  than  a  hundred  yards  under  ground, 
and  forming  the  great  thoroughfares  of  the  commu- 
nity. The  tender  body  of  the  termites,  compared 
with  the  armour-like  integument  of  their  mortal  ene- 
mies the  ants,  makes  it  necessary  for  them  thus  to 
conceal  themselves  in  their  covered  roads. 

These  galleries  wind  spirally  up  to  the  top  of  the 
hill.  By  this  contrivance  the  ascent  is  rendered 
easier  to  an  insect  toiling  under  its  load.  Let  us 
only  conceive  a  man  carrying  a  heavy  weight  up  a 
ladder  two  thousand  eight  hundred  and  eighty  feet, 
and  we  shall  have  some  notion  of  the  labour  saved 
by  inclining  the  ascent.  The  distance  too  is  short- 
ened by  another  ingenious  contrivance :  an  arch  is 
thrown  from  one  frequented  spot  to  another;  and 
one  of  these  when  measured  has  been  found  to  be 
ten  inches  in  length,  half  an  inch  in  width,  and  one- 
fourth  of  an  inch  in  thickness ;  and,  according  to 
Smeathman,  it  was  not  excavated,  but  projected 
from  one  point  to  another.  It  would  be  curious  to 
know  the  site  of  these  arches  in  different  hills,  as 
proving  how  far  they  might  or  might  not  be  varied 
with  the  exigencies  of  each  community. 

Having  thus  described  the  city,  some  account 
shall  now  be  given  of  its  inhabitants.  In  the  sub- 
joined engraving : — the  first  (fig.  1)  represents  the 
king,  which,  after  losing  its  wings,  never  seems  to 
increase  in  bulk.  The  next  (fig.  2)  is  a  labourer 
magnified ;  it  is  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  inch  in 
length.  If  its  formidable  jaws  be  examined,  and  its 
immense  industry  and  activity  be  considered,  the  ef- 
fects resulting  from  the  labours  of  myriads  of  these 
insects  will  scarcely  excite  surprise.  The  next 
(fig.  3)  is  the  soldier,  with  its  huge  head  armed  with 
I.— 0 


158  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [CH.  VIII. 

awls,  which  may  be  seen  magnified  in  the  last  figure 
fig-  4). 


2.  Labourer  magnified. 
4.  The  head  magnified. 


The  workers  and  soldiers  of  all  the  different  spe- 
cies of  termites  never  expose  themselves  to  the  open 
air,  but  travel  either  underground,  or  in  the  interior  of 
such  trees  and  substances  as  they  destroy.  It  some- 
times happens  that  they  cannot  proceed  by  latent 
passages,  although  they  find  it  necessary  to  search 
for  plunder  above  ground ;  in  this  emergency  they 
make  pipes  of  the  same  material  with  which  they 
build  their  nest.  With  this  material  they  com- 
pletely line  most  of  the  roads  leading  from  their 
nests  into  the  various  parts  of  the  country,  and 
travel  outwards  and  homewards  with  the  utmost 
security  in  all  kinds  of  weather.  If  they  meet 
with  a  rock  or  any  other  obstruction,  they  will  make 
their  way  over  the  surface:  for  that  purpose  they 
erect  a  covered  way,  or  arch,  still  of  the  same  ma- 
terials, continuing  it,  with  many  windings  and  rami- 
fications, through  large  groves ;  and,  where  such  a 
precaution  may  be  practicable,  they  construct  sub- 
terranean pipes  running  parallel  with  the  surface 
passages,  into  which  they  sink  for  security,  when- 
ever their  galleries  above  ground  may  be  destroyed 
by  violence,  or  they  happen  to  be  alarmed  by  the 
tread  of  men  or  animals. 

"  When  one  chances  to  enter,"  says  Smeathman, 
"  a  solitary  grove  where  the  ground  is  pretty  well 


CH.  VIII.]  THE    WHITE    ANT.  159 

covered  by  their  arched  galleries,  they  give  the 
alarm  by  loud  hissings,  which  we  hear  distinctly  at 
every  step  we  make.  Soon  afterward  it  is  vain  to 
examine  the  galleries  for  these  insects  ;  little  holes 
are  found  just  large  enough  for  them  to  escape 
through. 

Smith,  in  talking  of  a  species  of  termes,  says,  "I 
one  day  attempted  to  knock  off  the  top  of  one  of 
the  hills  with  my  cane,  but  the  stroke  had  no  other 
effect  than  to  bring  thousands  of  the  insects  out  of 
doors  to  see  what  was  the  matter;  upon  which  I 
took  to  my  heels,  and  ran  away  as  fast  as  I  could." 
"  The  first  object  which  strikes  one  upon  opening 
their  hills,"  says  Smeathman,  "  is  the  behaviour  of 
their  soldiers.  If  you  make  a  breach,  in  a  few  se- 
conds a  soldier  will  run  out,  and  walk  about  as  if  to 
reconnoitre.  It  will  sometimes  go  in  as  if  to  give 
the  alarm,  but  most  frequently  may  be  followed  by 
two  or  three  others,  who  run  straggling  after  one 
another;  and  to  them  succeed  a  large  body,  who 
rush  out  as  fast  as  the  breach  will  permit  them ; 
and  the  number  increases  as  long  as  any  one  con- 
tinues battering  the  building.  It  is  not  easy  to  de- 
scribe the  rage  and  fury  they  show.  In  their  hurry 
they  frequently  miss  their  hold,  and  tumble  down 
the  sides  of  the  hill,  but  recover  themselves  as 
quickly  as  possible,  and,  being  blind,  bite  every 
thing  they  run  against,  thus  making  a  crackling 
noise,  while  some  beat  repeatedly  with  their  forceps 
upon  the  building,  and  make  a  small  vibrating  noise 
something  shriller  and  quicker  than  the  ticking  of  a 
watch — it  can  be  heard  at  three  or  four  feet  dis- 
tance. They  make  their  hooked  jaws  meet  at 
every  bite ;  and  if  it  should  be  the  leg  of  a  man,  a 
spot  of  blood,  extending  an  inch  on  the  stocking, 
follows  the  wound.  Nothing  can  tear  them  away, 
but  they  must  be  taken  off  piecemeal.  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  you  cease  to  batter,  in  half  an  hour  they 
retire  into  the  nest,  as  if  they  supposed  the  won- 


160  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [CH.  VIII 

derful  monster  that  damaged  their  castle  to  be  be- 
yond their  reach.  The  labourers,  who  had  fled  on 
the  first  alarm,  are  now  seen  hastening  to  repair  the 
breach,  every  one  with  a  burden  of  ready  tempered 
mortar  in  its  mouth.  This  they  stick  on  to  the 
breach  with  such  wonderful  celerity  and  order,  that 
although  thousands,  nay,  millions,  seem  employed, 
yet  they  never  embarrass  one  another.  While  the 
labourers  are  thus  engaged,  the  soldiers  retire,  save 
here  and  there  one,  who  saunters  about,  never  touch- 
ing the  mortar.  One,  in  particular,  places  itself 
close  to  the  part  undergoing  repair ;  it  may  be  seen 
turning  leisurely  on  all  sides,  and  every  now  and 
then,  at  an  interval  of  a  minute  or  two,  lifting  up 
its  head,  and  with  its  forceps  beating  upon  the 
building  and  making  a  vibrating  noise,  on  which  a 
loud  hiss,  apparently  from  the  whole  body  of  la- 
bourers, issues  from  withinside  the  dome  and  all 
the  subterranean  passages  :  that  it  comes  from  the 
labourers  is  very  evident,  for  all  these  may  be  seen 
hastening  at  every  such  signal,  redoubling  their 
pace,  and  working  as  fast  again.  Attack  the  nest 
again,  and  with  a  loud  hiss  the  labourers  disappear, 
and  the  soldiers  rush  out ;  so  that  the  experiment 
yields  constantly  the  same  result,  of  labourers  at 
work  and  soldiers  rushing  to  battle,  the  duties  of 
each  being  as  distinct  as  night  and  day." 

Smeathman  gives  the  following  account  of  the 
marching  termes. 

While  sauntering  very  silently  in  the  hopes  of 
finding  some  sport,  on  a  sudden  he  heard  a  loud  hiss, 
which,  on  account  of  the  many  serpents  in  those 
countries,  is  a  most  alarming  sound.  The  next  step 
produced  a  repetition  of  the  sound ;  and  then  he 
saw  with  astonishment  and  delight,  an  army  of  the 
marching  ants  (termes  viarum)  emerging  from  the 
ground :  their  march  was  orderly,  and  very  rapid, 
and  their  numbers  prodigious :  they  were  divided 
into  two  columns  sixteen  abreast,  composed  chiefly 


CH.  IX.]  THE    GALL-INSECT.  161 

of  labourers,  with  here  and  there  a  huge  soldier 
that  appeared  like  an  ox  among  sheep ;  other  sol- 
diers kept  a  foot  or  two  from  the  column,  apparently 
acting  as  videttes,  appointed  to  guard  against  sur- 
prise :  others  mounted  the  plants  or  blades  of  grass, 
which  flanked  the  main  bodies,  and,  thus  elevated 
a  foot  and  more,  looked  over  and  controlled  the  pro- 
ceedings of  the  moving 'multitude.  They  turned 
their  heads  in  the  different  directions  whence  dan- 
ger might  arise,  and  every  now  and  then  struck 
their  forceps  against  the  plant  and  produced  the 
ticking  sound  already  mentioned,  to  which  the 
whole  army  anssvered  simultaneously  with  a  loud 
hiss,  and  quickened  their  pace  :  after  proceeding 
thus  for  about  fifteen  paces,  the  two  columns  united 
and  sunk  into  the  earth.  The  stream,  however, 
continued  to  flow  on  for  more  than  an  hour,  during 
which  Smeathman  watched  their  movements :  the 
rear  was  brought  up  by  a  large  body  of  soldiers. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Parasitical  Insects— Gall-Insect— Cochineal-Insect— The  Scarlet 
Colour  used  in  Dysing. 

WE  shall  now  proceed  to  the  habits  and  instincts 
of  a  class  of  insects  which  may  with  a  little  lati- 
tude be  termed  parasitical ;  some  of  these  attach 
themselves  to  the  vegetable,  others  to  the  animal 
kingdom. 

The  history  of  the  gall-insects  is  curious,  chiefly 
from  the  power  they  possess  of  diverting  the  laws 
of  vegetation  from  their  ordinary  into  an  extraordi- 
nary track.  Thes«  insects  are  not  all  of  one  kind ; 
but,  though  differing  in  many  respects,  they  have 
this  quality  in  common,  that  they  deposite  an  egg 
O2 


162  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [CH.  IX, 

under  the  outward  covering-  of  a  plant,  whence  a 
little  mansion  springs  up  which  provides  its  inmate 
both  with  shelter  and  food.  Judging  from  the  great 
number  of  plants  attacked  by  them,  it  would  appear 
that  our  insects  are  destined  to  fill  a  very  important 
department  in  the  economy  of  nature.  These  ex^ 
crescences  are  found  in  every  part  of  a  plant ;  there 
is  scarcely  a  portion  of  the  oak,  for  instance,  whe- 
ther it  be  root,  branch,  stalk,  leaf,  or  bud,  which  is 
not  capable  of  furnishing  the  gall-insects  with  a 
habitation. 

Some  of  the  galls  are  tenanted  by  only  one  em- 
bryo, others  contain  many  in  their  larva  state,  so 
that  these  insect-houses  consist  either  of  one  or 
many  chambers  ;  they  vary  in  size  from  the  minute- 
ness of  a  pin's  head  to  the  bulk  of  a  walnut ;  they 
sometimes  resemble  fruit,  both  in  shape  and  colour : 
the  gall  of  the  oak,  for  example,  is  sometimes 
shaped  like  an  apple,  sometimes  like  a  bunch  of 
currants,  and  sometimes  like  an  artichoke :  but  it 
were  endless  to  enumerate  the  strange  and  beautiful 
diversities  which  are  produced  by  a  tiny  insect  in  a 
space  of  time  varying  from  a  few  hours  to  a  few 
weeks. 


The  older  botanists  mistook  the  trees  in  which 
these  vegetable  excrescences  were  produced  for 
distinct  species.  Thus,  Gerard  describes  a  willow 
which  bore  something  like  roses ;  he  talks  of  it,  as 


CH.  IX.]  THE    GALL-INSECT.  163 

not  only  "  making-  a  gallant  show,  and  being-  set  up 
in  houses  for  the  decking  of  the  same,"  but  also  as 
"  yielding  a  most  cooling  aire  in  the  heat  of  summer." 

"  This  willow,  however,"  observes  Kirby,  "is  no- 
thing more  than  one  of  the  common  species,  whose 
twigs  in  consequence  of  the  deposition  of  the  eggs 
of  a  cynips  in  their  summit,  there  shoot  out  into 
numerous  leaves  totally  differing  in  shape  from  the 
other  leaves  of  the  tree,  and  arranged  not  much 
unlike  the  flower  of  a  rose,  adhering  to  the  stem  even 
after  the  others  fall  off." 

In  consistence,  these  excrescences  have  nothing 
in  common  with  the  plant  to  which  they  are  at- 
tached. On  the  oak,  some  are  found  literally  as 
hard  as  iron,  so  as  to  turn  the  edge  of  a  knife,  while 
others  are  as  juicy  and  pulpy  as  fruit.  It  is  not 
the  tree  but  the  insect  which  regulates  this ;  for  it  is 
certain  that,  on  the  very  same  leaf,  one  species  of 
gall-fly  will  invariably  form  a  woody  and  hard  gall- 
nut,  while  another  as  invariably  produces  a  spongy 
and  soft  one — although  both  of  these  are  formed 
from  materials  of  the  same  texture.  Persons  who 
formerly  saw  insects  emerging  from  little  excres- 
cences having  no  visible  inlet,  were  induced  to  be- 
lieve that  they  had  either  been  sucked  up  by  the  roots 
with  the  juices,  or  generated  by  putrefaction. 

Attentive  observation,  and  the  use  of  a  lens  of  suf- 
ficient power,  will  explain  the  manner  in  which  the 
gall-nut  rises.  The  little  fly  may  be  seen  settling  on 
the  part  to  which  its  instinct  invariably  leads  it ;  and 
introducing  a  sort  of  sting,  its  ovipositor,  under  the 
epidermis  or  skin  of  the  plant :  it  then  moves  it 
about  as  if  to  enlarge  the  orifice,  and  deposites  the 
egg.  These  eggs,  when  examined  first  in  the  body 
of  the  fly,  and  afterward  in  the  nut,  are  found  to 
differ  so  much  in  size,  that  Reaumur  supposes  them 
to  grow  after  they  have  been  laid.  If  this  be  the  fact, 
it  is  singular,  as  in  that  case  the  egg  will  not  resem- 
ble so  much  that  of  oviparous  animals  as  that  of 


164  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [CH.  IX 

viviparous.  The  gall-nut  will  be,  as  that  unrivalled 
naturalist  has  conjectured,  a  matrix  or  womb,  from 
which  juices  are  absorbed  by  the  egg,  in  order  to 
furnish  the  material  of  its  growth. 

The  plant  being  alive,  we  can  easily  imagine  that, 
if  any  part  of  it  be  wounded,  the  sap  would  flow  from 
the  orifice,  and  produce  a  knob,  which  would  grow 
and  harden  into  an  irregular  mass. 

The  gall-fly,  however,  has  the  art  of  altering  the 
organization  of  the  part :  an  egg,  together  with  per- 
haps a  most  minute  drop  of  fluid,  is  introduced  into 
a  plant ;  and  a  part  which,  under  ordinary  circum- 
stances, would  have  expanded  into  a  leaf  or  stalk,  is 
seen  to  burst  out  under  the  form  of  a  fruit  or  flower, 
as  evidently  organized,  as  if  it  had  been  trans- 
ferred from  the  plant  which  it  resembles,  to  that  to 
which  it  has  no  natural  affinity. 

Why  one  insect  should  produce  invariably  one 
species  of  gall,  and  another  insect  a  different  species 
— why  these  should  resemble  the  regular  forms  of 
parts  of  other  plants,  are  mysteries  extremely  diffi- 
cult, if  not  utterly  incapable,  of  solution.  When  the 
egg  is  deposited  in  the  young  shoot,  by  a  particular 
kind  of  gall-fly,  instead  of  pushing  forth  a  sprout, 
the  irritation  brings  out  an  abundance  of  leaves, 
which  gradually  assume  the  figure  of  an  artichoke. 

The  first  general  effect  produced  by  the  insertion 
of  the  egg  is,  therefore,  to  augment  the  vegetative 
powers  of  the  part,  and  the  next  to  alter  their  action. 
The  hairy  gall  of  the  wild  rose,  formerly  employed 
in  medicine,  under  the  name  of  Bedegtiar,  has  a 
mossy  appearance.  Here  the  liquor  of  the  gall-fly 
seems  to  have  caused  a  disjunction  of  those  fibres 
which,  in  their  ordinary  state,  would  have  united  and 
formed  a  leaf.  The  difference  observable  in  the 
consistence  of  these  various  galls  may  possibly  arise 
from  the  different  power  of  absorbing  juices  pos- 
sessed by  the  different  insects  inhabiting  them ; 
though  it  is  just  as  possible,  in  this  guess-work,  to 


CH.  IX.]  THE  GALL-INSECT.  165 

suppose  that  the  irritation  should  cause  a  greater 
quantity  of  juices  to  flow  towards  the  punctured 
part. 


The  gall-insects  remain  five  or  six  months  in  the 
larva  state,  before  changing  to  nymphs ;  some  un- 
dergo all  their  metamorphoses  within  the  gall-nut, 
and  piercing  their  prison,  come  forth  as  perfect  in- 
sects :  others  quit  it  and  bury  themselves  in  the 
earth,  until  they  arrive  at  maturity;  soon  after  which 
the  female  becomes  impregnated  and  lays  her  eggs. 
Carefully  concealed  in  the  manner  just  described, 
they  escape  most  of  their  natural  enemies ;  but  fre- 
quently some  of  the  ichneumon  tribe  contrive  to 
introduce  their  eggs  into  the  same  habitation,  and 
the  larva  as  it  grows  up  feeds  on  the  young  of  the 
gall-fly. 

This  shows  that  even  insects,  which  nature  seems 
to  have  gifted  with  the  most  surprising  foresight, 
cannot  provide  against  all  the  hazards  to  which  their 
young  are  exposed.  What  could  an  anxious  mother 
do  more,  than  to  conceal  her  offspring  in  so  solid 
and  secret  a  habitation,  as  that  which  envelopes  the 
young  gall-fly?  But  insects,  as  small  or  smaller 
than  those  into  which  the  larvae  are  transformed, 
know  how  to  pierce  the  sides  of  the  cells  and  to  de- 
posite  within  them  an  egg,  which  shall  produce  a  car- 
nivorous worm,  for  whom  the  rightful  tenant  of  the 
mansion  serves  as  food.  When  some  of  these  galls 
are  opened,  two  worms  of  different  sizes  will  fre- 
quently be  found,  the  least  sucking  the  biggest,  while 


166  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [CH.  IX. 

the  latter  sucks  the  gall-nut.  When  the  ichneumon, 
for  the  small  worm  generally  turns  into  that  species 
of  fly,  comes  out,  it  is  often  found  to  be  much  bigger 
than  the  creature  it  lived  on,  and  here  a  difficulty 
presents  itself  which  requires  to  be  explained.  How 
does  it  happen  that  the  ichneumon  worm  should  be 
so  much  bigger  than  the  gall-insect,  which  is  the  only 
substance  on  which  it  feeds  ?  Where  does  it  obtain 
the  additional  food  required  to  produce  this  addi- 
tional bulk  ]  Not  from  the  gall-nut,  for  the  ichneu- 
mon worm  does  not  feed  on  a  vegetable ;  and  as 
there  is  no  living  thing,  save  the  larva  of  the  gall-fly, 
enclosed  with  it  in  the  cell,  it  must  in  some  way  or 
other  obtain  it  from  that.  The  truth  is,  that  Nature 
has  taught  the  young  of  the  ichneumon  not  to  kill 
the  larva  of  the  gall-fly  outright;  it  wounds  only 
certain  parts  which  are  not  vital,  and  from  these  it 
extracts  its  nourishment.  The  gall-worm,  therefore, 
goes  on  sucking  the  vegetable  juice,  and  elaborating 
it  into  animal  matter,  and  as  fast  as  that  process  is 
completed,  the  ichneumon  worm  abstracts  and  ap- 
propriates it ;  and  so  well-timed  are  the  operations 
of  nature,  that  the  moment  the  ichneumon  worm 
has  reached  its  perfect  state,  and  requires  no  farther 
supply  of  food,  the  gall-insect,  which  previously 
furnished  it  with  this  supply,  becomes  exhausted, 
and  perishes. 

WThile  some  persons  have  supposed  that  a  plant 
could  be  converted  into  a  gall-fly,  others,  and  those, 
too,  accustomed  to  entomological  investigation,  have 
mistaken  an  insect  for  a  gall-nut.  Some  of  our  trees 
appear  as  if  covered  with  scabs  of  an  oval  shape  : 
these  remain  fixed,  show  no  sign  of  motion,  nor  any 
external  mark  by  which  an  animal  form  may  be  re- 
cognised ;  nevertheless,  they  are  true  insects,  and  the 
nearer  they  are  to  maturity,  the  less  they  exhibit 
the  character  of  animal  life,  and  at  the  time  they  are 
occupied  in  laying  thousands  of  eggs,  they  present 
the  aspect  of  a  gall-nut. 


CH.  IX.  J  THE  COCHINEAL-INSECT.  167 


They  vary  in  figure,  some  being-  globular,  some 
flattened,  or  slightly  convex  like  the  bottom  of  a 
boat,  or  kidney-shaped.  Some  of  these  do  not  ex- 
ceed in  size  a  pepper-corn,  others  become  as  large  as 
a  pea. 

These  extraordinary  creatures  form  the  genus  coc- 
cus of  Linnaeus,  and  are  to  be  reckoned  among  the 
insects  which  are  directly  useful  to  man.  Formerly, 
a  species  of  these  insects,  the  coccus  Polonicus; 
formed  a  considerable  article  of  commerce  in  Poland. 
The  coccus  cacti,  or  the  cochineal-insect  of  South 
America,  however,  has  now,  by  the  superiority  of 
the  crimson  dye  it  affords,  superseded  the  other.  In 
1518,  the  Spaniards  found  it  used  by  the  Americans, 
for  the  purposes  of  dyeing ;  yet  its  true  nature  was 
not  discovered  for  nearly  two  centuries  after,  when 
the  observations  of  Hartsoeker,  Leeuwenhoek,  De  la 
Hire,  and  Geoffroy  clearly  proved  it  to  be  an  insect, 
and  not,  as  was  supposed,  a  grain,  or  seed.  This  in- 
sect feeds  on  the  nopal,  which  is  a  species  of  fig-tree 
very  common  in  New  Spain,  and  in  some  parts  of 
India:  the  leaves  are  thick,  and  full  of  saccharine 
juice.  At  the  approach  of  the  rainy  season  the  cul- 
tivators sweep  from  the  leaves  several  little  insects, 
resembling  a  bug,  which  suck  the  green  plant.  They 
preserve  them  in  their  own  houses,  and  feed  them 
with  the  branches  of  the  nopal.  At  the  close  of  the 
rainy  season  twelve  or  fourteen  of  these  insects,  by 


168  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [CH.  li 

that  time  grown  strong-,  are  put  into  little  baskets 
made  of  moss  or  the  down  that  covers  the  cocoa-nut. 
These  baskets  are  placed  on  the  nopal,  and  in  a  few 
days  the  cochineal  insects  spread  themselves  over 
the  tree,  and  give  birth  to  an  infinite  number  of 
young. .  In  the  immediate  vicinity  of  Oaxaca,  the 
cultivators  of  this  insect  feed  it  in  the  plains  during 
the  dry  season,  which  extends  from  October  to  April. 
In  the  month  of  April  the  rain  sets  in,  and  continues 
until  October.  At  the  beginning  of  this  season  they 
transport  their  stock  of  insects,  and  place  them  to 
feed  on  plantations  of  nopals  in  the  neighbouring 
mountains,  where  the  weather  is  more  favourable. 
The  dams  live  but  a  little  time  after  they  have  laid 
their  eggs,  and  are  what  may  be  called  the  first  crop. 
The  young,  forsaking  the  baskets,  disperse  them- 
selves over  all  the  verdure  of  the  nopal,  and  thrive  to 
that  degree,  that  in  the  space  of  three  months  they 
become  prolific  in  their  turn.  The  second  brood  are 
permitted  to  live,  but  all  the  parents  are  carried  home 
and  killed :  the  new  offspring  on  the  tree  have  like- 
wise their  young  at  the  end  of  about  three  months ; 
but  lest  they  should  all  be  destroyed  by  the  rainy 
season,  the  cultivators  carry  home  the  parents  as 
well  as  their  offspring,  and  this  is  the  third  produce. 
A  sufficient  number  of  the  young  insects  are  pre- 
served to  continue  the  species  the  next  year,  and  all 
the  rest  are  killed  in  hot  water,  or  ovens,  or  upon 
the  flat  stones  with  which  the  American  women 
bake  their  bread.  The  inside  of  the  insects  thus 
destroyed  is  filled  with  the  beautiful  red  dust  so  well 
known  to  dyers.  Plantations  containing  fifty  or 
sixty  thousand  trees,  growing  in  straight  lines,  may 
be  seen  in  some  districts  of  America.  The  quan- 
tity of  insects  annually  exported  from  South  Ame- 
rica is  valued  at  £500,000.  The  Spanish  government 
are  jealous  of  its  being  naturalized  elsewhere,  while 
a  reward  of  £6000  is  offered  by  the  East  India  Com- 
pany for  its  introduction  into  our  territories.  The 


CH.  IX.]  THE  COCHINEAL-INSECT.  169 

figures  of  the  female  cochineal-insect,  magnified, 
will  give  a  good  idea  of  this  genus  generally. 


Their  trunk  is  so  brittle  that  they  cannot  be  moved 
from  their  place  without  breaking  it ;  an  accident 
which  would  prove  fatal  to  them :  the  consequence 
is,  that  during  the  whole  term  of  their  life  they  re- 
main fixed  to  the  spot  where  they  first  settled,  and 
to  the  vegetable  nipple  which  feeds  them.  When 
the  females  have  attained  the  age  of  puberty,  the 
males  are  supplied  with  wings,  and  enabled  to  quit 
the  plant  on  which  they  were  hatched.  The  females 
remain  stationary,  and  hatch  their  young  on  the 
spot ;  but  the  latter  would  soon  become  so  numerous 
as  to  be  at  a  loss  for  space  to  feed  on,  while  they 
are  so  delicate,  that  it  would  be  impossible  for  them 
to  pass  from  one  plant  to  another,  if  nature  did  not 
provide  for  them  admirable  means  of  emigration :  at 
the  period  of  their  birth  a  multitude  of  spiders  fasten 
their  nets  to  the  leaves  of  the  nopal ;  and  it  is  along 
these  slender  threads,  which  answer  the  purposes  of 
a  bridge,  that  the  brood  of  the  cochineal-insect  emi- 
grates to  a  neighbouring  tree  in  quest  of  food. 

The  gall-nuts  used  in  making  ink  are  produced  by 
an  insect  which  punctures  the  leaves  of  a  species  of 
oak  very  common  in  Asia  Minor,  where  they  are 
collected  in  considerable  quantities  by  the  poorer  in- 
habitants: from  the  different  ports  of  the  Levant 
they  are  exported  to  various  parts  of  the  world. 
The  galls  held  in  the  greatest  estimation  are  those 
I.— P 


170  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  IX. 

known  in  commerce  under  the  name  of  blue  galls. 
These  are  the  produce  of  the  first  gathering,  before 
the  fly  has  issued  from  the  gall.  Those  which  may 
have  been  overlooked  in  the  first  gathering,  and  from 
which  the  fly  may  afterward  have  emerged  in  its 
perfect  form,  are  called  white  galls :  these  are  of  a 
very  inferior  quality,  containing  less  of  the  astringent 
principle  than  the  blue  galls,  in  the  proportion  of 
two  to  three. 

The  true  vermilion  kermes,  and  a  variety  of  other 
valuable  colours  or  drugs  have  no  other  origin  than 
the  punctures  of  different  insects :  many  plants  are 
covered  with  them,  and  it  seems  probable  that  we 
daily  import  from  other  countries  commodities 
which  we  might  procure  at  home.  The  persons 
who  gather  the  kermes  take  the  insect  when  ripe 
and  spread  it  upon  linen,  turning  it  at  first  while  it 
abounds  in  moisture  twice  or  thrice  a-day,  to  pre- 
vent its  heating.  When  there  appears  red  powder 
among  it,  they  separate  it,  passing  it.  through  a  sieve, 
and  then  again  spread  out  the  grain  upon  the  linen, 
until  more  red  powder  becomes  visible;  and  the 
same  process  is  repeated  until  it  ceases  to  yield  any 
more  of  this  substance. 

In  the  beginning,  when  the  small  red  grains  are 
seen  to  move,  as  they  will  do.  they  are  sprinkled 
over  \yith  strong  vinegar,  and  rubbed  between  the 
hands ;  afterward,  little  balls  are  made  of  them, 
which  are  exposed  to  the  sun  to  dry.  If  this  pow- 
der should  be  let  alone,  without  pouring  vinegar  01 
some  other  acid  liquor  upon  it,  out  of  every  grain 
would  come  forth  a  little  fly,  which  v/ould  skip  and 
wing  about  for  a  day  or  two,  and  at  last,  changing 
its  colour,  fall  down  quite  dead. 

Another  species  of  the  cocci  produce  the  article 
of  commerce  called  gum-lac.  The  insect  is  of  a 
deep  red  colour,  of  the  general  shape  of  this  tribe, 
and  not  bigger  than  a  louse.  It  infests  certain  trees 
of  the  fig  kind  in  the  large  forests  of  Hindostan 


CH.  IX.]  THE  COCHINEAL-INSECT.  171 

in  such  innumerable  multitudes,  that  their  upper 
branches  appear  as  if  covered  with  blood.  About 
November  and  Decernbsr  the  young  leave  the  shel- 
ter afforded  by  the  carcass  of  the  mother,  and,  after 
wandering  about  the  stems  and  branches,  fix  on  the 
succulent  extremities  of  the  newest  shoots.  Towards 
the  middle  of.January  they  are  motionless,  exhibiting 
no  signs  of  life,  though  as  plump  as  before,  and  are 
glued  to  the  branch  by  a  viscid  and  semi-transparent 
liquor.  In  March,  the  cells,  as  Kerr  calls  them,  are 
completely  formed ;  that  is,  the  carcass  of  the  in- 
sect is  now  an  oval  red  bag,  the  size  of  a  cochineal, 
and  full  of  a  beautiful  red  liquor.  In  November  or 
December,  about  twenty  or  thirty  oval  eggs  are 
found  within  the  red  fluid  of  the  mother.  When 
this  fluid  is  expended,  the  young  pierce  a  hole 
through  the  carcass  of  their  parent,  and  walk  off  one 
by  one,  leaving  the  tattered  remains  of  their  old 
covering  behind  them.  This  is  the  white  substance 
which  is  seen  in  stick-lac.  These  young,  like  their 
parents,  proceed  to  fix  themselves  on  some  tender 
and  juicy  shoot.  Kerr  calculates  that  only  one  in 
six  can  have  room  to  complete  its  cell,  the  others 
dying  or  being  eaten  by  birds,  which,  should  they 
perch  on  any  of  the  branches  loaded  with  these  in- 
sects, must  with  their  feet  necessarily  carry  off  num- 
bers to  the  next  tree  on  which  they  may  happen  to 
alight.  The  quantity  of  sap  which  they  pump  out 
turns  the  branches  of  a  dirty  black. 

There  are  four  kinds  of  lac — the  stick-lac,  which 
is  the  substance  in  its  natural  state,  and  from  which 
the  others  are  all  made.  2.  Seed-lac,  or  the  shells 
separated  from  the  sticks.  3.  Lump-lac,  or  the  seed 
melted  down  and  made  into  cakes.  4.  Shell-lac,  or 
the  shells  liquefied,  strained,  and  formed  into  thin 
transparent  layers.  The  gum-lac  is  principally  ga- 
thered on  the  uncultivated  mountains  on  both  sides 
of  the  Ganges,  where  it  is  produced  in  such  astonish- 
ing quantities,  that  it  would  supply  ten  times  the 


172  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [CH.  IX. 

demand  which  exists  for  it ;  and  the  only  trouble 
required  in  gathering  this  substance  consists  in  break- 
ing down  the  branches  and  carrying  them  to  market. 

The  shell-lac  is  used  by  the  natives  in  making  or- 
naments, rings,  necklaces,  and  bracelets  ;  when  im- 
pregnated with  cinnabar  it  forms  sealing-wax,  or,  as 
the  Dutch  call  it,  segel-lak  (seal-lac).  When  heated 
and  mixed  with  a  black  powder,  it  may  be  spread 
on  a  box  or  other  article  for  the  purpose  of  japanning 
it.  It  also  enters  into  the  composition  of  various 
varnishes.  It  affords  likewise  a  beautiful  red  colour 
by  throwing  the  insect  into  water. 

Of  the  insects  which  are  common  to  various  parts 
of  Europe,  it  may  be  said  that  the  cocci  fix  them- 
selves to  such  plants  as  are  hardy  enough  to  pass  the 
winter  through.  "  All  that  I  know,"  says  Reaumur, 
"  require  a  plant  capable  of  nourishing  them  for  one 
year,  the  natural  term  of  the  life  of  these  insects." 
While  young  they  attach  themselves  to  the  leaves, 
and  as  these  wither  away,  descend  to  the  branches, 
where  they  adhere  during  the  winter.  As  spring 
returns,  they  become  fecundated,  and  prepare  to 
perpetuate  their  species.  One  of  these  insects, 
which  sucks  the  juice  of  the  peach,  is  boat-shaped'; 
its  skin,  which  is  all  that  can  be  seen,  is  exactly  like 
the  fine  bark  of  the  cherry-tree.  On  looking  at  the 
peach,  some  of  these  gall-insects  may  be  observed 
dry  and  dead,  others  alive,  though  immoveable ; 
those  on  the  old  branches  are  for  the  most  part  of 
the  former,  those  in  the  new  shoots  of  the  latter  class 
They  may  farther  be  known  by  the  colour  of  the 
latter  being  more  brilliant  than  that  of  the  former ; 
and  also  by  the  dead  ones  being  easily  pushed  off 
with  the  finger  or  a  penknife,  while  the  live  insect 
adheres :  a  more  violent  push  kills  them  ;  and  they 
yield  a  thick  liquid  substance,  similar  to  that  which 
is  produced  by  crushing  any  other  species  of  living 
insect.  The  spot  from  whence  the  coccus  has  been 
removed  is  covered  with  a  downy  cotton,  which 


CH.  IX*]  THE  PEACH-INSECT.  173 

transpires  or  exudes  from  the  abdominal  surface  of 
the  insect." 

If  the  coccus  of  the  peach  be  examined  about  the 
end  of  May,  it  will  be  difficult  to  persuade  ourselves 
that  the  little  skinny  globe  which  presents  itself  to 
the  eye  is  an  insect :  there  is  no  fleshy  texture ;  it  has 
the  appearance  of  a  little  tortoise-shell,  under  which 
is  concealed  an  infinite  number  of  very  diminutive 
grains ;  these  are  the  eggs  of  the  insect,  which, 
when  expelled,  are  hatched  under  the  carcass  of  their 
dead  parent.  If  these  protuberances  be  removed, 
beginning  at  the  top  and  proceeding  downwards,  so 


as  not  to  let  their  eggs  fall,  they  may  readily  be  col- 
lected. In  these  figures  the  little  dots  represent 
the  eggs  ;  if,  however,  the  gall-like  protuberance  be 
transversely  divided  with  a  penknife,  both  the  con- 
tents and  the  arrangement  of  the  eggs  will  be  ob- 
served more  readily.  Hence  it  would  seem,  that  at 
first  these  creatures  have  a  form  like  many  other  in- 
sects, that  after  ^  a  time  they  fix  themselves  to  the 
tree,  and  suck  its  juice,  and  that  their  extraordinary 
distention  is  owing  to  an  innumerable  quantity  of 
eggs  contained  at  first  within  the  abdomen,  and  ulti- 
mately protruded.  Nature  has  taught  most  other 
insects  to  protect  their  young  by  furnishing  them  in 
their  period  of  helplessness  with  a  habitation  com- 
posed of  silk  or  some  other  substance.  The  coccus, 
however,  from  the  moment  the  eggs  are  laid,  de- 
P9 


174  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  IX. 

fends  them  from  the  elements  and  their  natural 
enemies  by  its  own  body,  and  after  death  still  shel- 
ters them  with  its  carcass.  It  may  at  first  sight  ap- 
pear extraordinary  that  a  fleshy  body,  when  dead, 
should  not  putrefy;  this,  however,  will  be  intelligi- 
ble, if  the  following  figures  be  attended  to.  The 
first  (fig.  1)  represents  the  under  surface  of  the  in- 


sect; this  is  nearly  plane,  and  is  exactly  fitted  to  the 
tree.  As  the  eggs  are  protruded,  they  are  placed, 
by  a  sort  of  peristaltic  motion,  between  the  skin  of 
the  belly  and  the  layer  of  cotton  which  covers  the 
spot  of  the  tree  to  which  the  insect  is  attached.  As 
more  eggs  are  laid,  the  skin  of  the  belly  is  pushed 
nearer  that  of  the  back,  till  at  length  the  two  skins 
are  thrust  close  together  by  means  of  the  eggs,  and 
the  under  part  of  the  insect  assumes  a  concave  shape 
(fig.  2).  Under  the  influence  of  this  pressure,  an 
absorbing  process  goes  on,  which  leaves  no  putres- 
cible  matter  behind.  Hence  it  arises  that,  when  our 
little  insect  yields  to  the  general  law,  and  dies.almost 
immediately  after  perpetuating  the  species,  its  car- 
cass is  as  sure  a  protection  to  its  young,  when  dead, 
as  its  body  was  when  alive. 

The  time  during  which  the  young  cocci  remain 
in  the  egg  is  not  determined  by  Reaumur ;  he  conjec- 
tures, however,  that  they  take  twelve  days,  and  af- 
terward remain  several  days  under  the  skin  of  their 
mother,  before  they  emancipate  themselves,  and  go 
out  into  their  little  world  of  leaf  or  stem.  At  this 
period  of  their  existence,  they  exhibit,  in  their  acti- 
vity, nothing  of  the  peculiarities  just  detailed ;  they 
soon,  however,  select  and  fix  upon  a  suitable  part 


CH.  IX.]  THE    PEACH-INSECT.  175 

of  a  plant :  the  male  insect,  which  is  destined  to 
become  a  small  winged  creature,  as  soon  as  it  has 
its  wings,  crawls  out  backwards  from  its  larval  skin, 
which  served  it  for  a  cocoon  while  undergoing  its 
nymphine  metamorphosis. 

The  opening  by  which  they  quit  their  maternal 
prison  is  provided  also  by  nature.  The  posterior 
portion  of  the  body  of  the  mother  is  cloven,  and 
cannot  be  exactly  fitted  to  the  tree — hence,  the 
young  can  escape  without  lacerating  those  parental 
remains  which  had  sheltered  them  even  after  death. 

After  having  got  abroad,  they  fix  themselves  to 
the  leaves  of  trees,  and  their  growth  from  June  to 
October,  when  they  enlarge  a  little,  is  slow,  but  it  is 
only  in  the  following  April  that  they  be  gin  to  assume 
perceptibly  a  globular  shape.  At  the  falling  of  the 
leaf,  however,  nature  has  taught  them  to  retire  to 
the  stem  of  the  tree,  where  they  finish  their  life.  As 
soon  as  the  male  has  acquired  wings,  it  does  not  fly 
away,  but  walks,  and  it  is  towards  the  females  fixed 
on  the  tree  that  its  steps  are  directed.  The  size  of 
the  former  is  so  small,  in  comparison  with  that  of 
the  latter,  that  the  globular  body  of  the  female  ap- 
pears a  spacious  territory,  for  the  diminutive  male 
to  walk  about. 

There  are  other  kinds  of  gall-insects,  which  do 
not  cover  their  young  with  their  bodies,  but  secrete 
a  quantity  of  downy  cotton,  sufficient  to  form  a 
species  of  cocoon,  on  which  they  perch  themselves. 
The  dark  spot  is  the  insect,  the  white  bag  the  cocoon. 


176  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  X. 


CHAPTER  X. 

APHIS,    OR   PLANT-LOUSE. 

Every  Tree,  every  part  of  a  Tree  has  its  peculiar  Species— SucJc  Vege- 
table Juices — Shelter  themselves  from  bad  Weather  in  the  concave 
parts  of  Leaves. 

AMONG  the  most  curious  of  those  animals  which 
are  parasitical  on  plants,  is  the  aphis,  or  plant-louse. 
It  is  an  insect  common  enough  in  our  fields  and 
gardens,  and  there  is  scarcely  a  tree  or  shrub  which 
is  not  attacked  by  one  or  more  species  peculiar  to 
itself.  Some  are  winged,  and  others  have  no  wings ; 
and  some  are  black,  green,  brown,  in  short,  all  co- 
lours :  but  however  they  may  vary  in  these  non-es- 
sentials, their  habits  and  instincts  are  similar.  They 
live  in  society,  and  attach  themselves  to  the  stems, 
the  leaves,  and  roots  of  shrubs  and  vegetables,  the 
juices  of  which  they  suck  by  means  of  a  tube,  with 
which  they  are  furnished  for  the  purpose  ;  and  they 
frequently  cling  in  such  numbers  to  the  sustaining 
plant,  as  to  give  it  a  most  unsightly  appearance. 

If  the  rose-tree,  or  any  other  plant,  be  carefully  ex- 
amined, some  portion  of  it  will  be  found  covered  with 
little  transparent  insects  of  a  green  colour.  They 
appear  to  be  in  a  state  of  perfect  repose  :  they  are., 
however,  in  reality,  diligently  occupied  in  pumping 
out  the  juices  of  the  plant.  The  following  is  a 
magnified  figure  of  the  insect.  The  length  of  the 
sucking  pump  or  trunk,  in  some  species,  extends 
beyond  the  body ;  when  they  walk,  it  is  folded  under 
the  belly :  in  the  generality,  however,  the  ordinary 
length  of  this  member  is  about  one-third  that  of  the 
insect.  While  employed  in  using  this  instrument, 
they  form  at  times  two  layers,  one  over  the  other ; 


CH.  X.] 


THE    PLANT-LOUSE. 


177 


the  second  or  upper  layer  walk  freely  over  the  first, 
and  not  being  able  to  suck,  are  diligently  employed 
in  bringing  forth  young. 

These  immense  societies  of  suckers  must  of  course 
drain  the  leaf,  and  exhaust  the  juices  of  the  plant  to 
which  they  are  attached :  this  is  the  fact,  and,  by 
Leeuwenhoek,  they  have  been  truly  termed  the  pests 
of  the  garden.  However,  the  effect  is  occasionally 
curious  enough ;  for  instead  of  withering,  the  parts 
to  which  the  aphides  are  attached  enlarge  or  twist, 
and  by  so  doing  furnish  shelter  to  their  enemies. 
The  insect  chooses  the  concavity  of  a  shoot,  for  ex- 
ample, and  this,  through  loss  of  juice,  being  diverted 
from  its  straight  direction,  assumes  the  shape  of  a 
corkscrew ;  in  the  concave  folds  of  this  diverted  shoot 
it  is  that  the  aphis  shelters  itself  from  the  weather. 

Reaumur  says  that  this  curve  takes  place  on  the 
side  from  which  the  insects  suck  the  juices,  for  the 
same  reason  that  a  piece  of  wood  soaked  in  water, 


178  NATURAL    HIST  OR  V.  [cH.  X. 

and  exposed  to  the  action  of  the  fire,  is  bent  to  the 
side  acted  upon  by  that  element.  Another  effect  of 
the  curling-  of  the  shoot  is,  that  the  leaves,  which, 
if  extended,  would  stand  far  apart,  are  so  drawn  to- 
gether as  to  form  a  complete  covering*,  and  thus  the 
insects  are  at  once  defended  from  wind  and  rain, 
and  concealed  from  the  view  of  their  natural  ene 
mies. 


If  shoots  can  be  bent  by  insects  which  attacn 
themselves  to  this  portion  of  a  plant,  the  leaves 
must  of  course  be  more  easily  susceptible  of  this 
operation. 

Generally,  they  seek  the  under  surface  of  the 
leaves,  probably  as  that  part  which  affords  them 
most  shelter.  If  the  upper  surface  of  a  gooseberry, 
currant,  or  apple  leaf  be  examined,  it  will  be  found 
studded  with  pale,  reddish,  or  citron-coloured  emi- 
nences ;  and  on  the  under  surface,  cavities  will  be 
discovered  answering  to  these  eminences,  and  peo- 
pled with  aphides.  These  portions  of  the  leaf  are 
thicker  than  the  rest. 

A  still  more  remarkable  change  of  form  is  caused 
in  the  plant  by  the  developement  of  galls  formed  by 
the  plant-louse.  When  opened,  they  will  be  found 
hollow,  arid  tilled  with  a  colony  of  these  creatures, 
In  size  they  vary  from  that  of  a  nut  to  that  of  the 
Iranian  fist.  * 


CH.  X.J  THE  PLANT-LOUSE.  179 


It  has  been  already  stated,  that  the  formation  of 
the  true  gall-nut  is  owing  to  the  deposition  of  an 
egg  in  some  part  of  a  plant.   But  in  the  formation  of 
the  protuberances  inhabited  by  the  aphides  there 
is  this  remarkable  difference;  that  the  parent,  in- 
stead of  burying  her  offspring,  buries  herself,  and 
then,  as  the  walls  of  her  wonderful  mansion  rise  up 
around  and  enclose  her,  she  begins  to  people  her 
abode.     When  Reaumur  examined  the  smallest  of 
these  at  its  first  formation,  he  found  it  tenanted  by 
one  old  aphis  only : — when  he  examined  a  larger 
gall-nut  he  found,  in  addition  to  the  old  aphis,  one 
or  two  young  ones — and  in  a  protuberance  of  a 
larger  size  still,  he  discovered  a  more  abundant  po- 
pulation.    The  mode  by  which  the  insect  is  at  last 
thoroughly  enclosed  is  thus  described  by  him  : — "  Let 
us  imagine  that  the  mother-aphis,  still  young,  pricks 
the  leaf;  the  punctured  spot  sweils  all  around  the 
insect,  and  consequently  it  becomes  enclosed  within 
a  little  cavity.     If  it  continue  to  prink  it  at  the  low- 
est part  of  this  cavitv*  this  place  will  go  on  swelling 
in  length,  so  as  to  become  oblong  or  cylindrical. 
Let  us  conceive  tAat  the  insect  always  continues  to 
puncture  it  forwards  *,  as  soon  as  the  gall  has  risen 
to  a  certain  height  above  the  superior  surface  of  the 
leaf,  the  insect  is  no  longer  in  its  original  position ; 
viz.  on  the  plane  of  the  inferior  surface  of  the  leaf. 
Here  then  it  is  that  there  is  a  small  opening  into  the 
incipient  bladder ;  this  aperture  is  only  an  indenta- 
tion in  the  leaf.     As  soon  as  the  insect  removes  from 


180  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [dl.  X. 

the  aperture  towards  the  other  end  of  the  bladder, 
nothing  tends  to  hinder  the  bent  sides  from  meeting 
soonest  at  the  narrowest  part,  and  so  at  last  closing 
it  up  entirely.  Here  then  we  have  the  insect  shut 
up  in  an  oblong  sack  or  bladder.  It  brings'fbrth 
young,  these  prick  the  gall,  and  suck  the  juice  on  all 
sides,  so  that  being  thus  irritated  in  every  direction, 
it  grows  in  every  direction,  and  consequently  a  glo- 
bular form  results.  And  as  the  punctures  are  al- 
ways in  a  direction  farthest  from  the  original  aper- 
ture, that  part  enlarges  least ;  and  consequently  the 
gall  appears  to  be  attached  to  the  leaf  by  a  pedicle 
or  foot-stalk." 

Another  class  of  aphides,  which  inhabit  the  poplar, 
instead  of  forming  galls,  contrive  to  double  the  leaf 
so  nicely  on  the  nerve  which  runs  through  the  mid- 
dle, as  to  bring  the  two  edges  exactly  together,  and 
so  construct  a  closed  sack.  This  they  effect  by 
pricking  the  under  surface  in  various  places,  so  as  to 
give  rise  to  small  galls,  which  cause  the  leaf  to  curve. 
Reaumur  observes  that  these  punctures  must  be  made 
according  to  some  definite  measure  on  each  side  of 
the  centre  nervure,  or  else  the  edges  of  the  two  sides 
would  not  exactly  meet.  Besides  these  modes  of 
protection,  few  species  of  aphides  destined  to  live 


CH.  X.]  THE  PLANT-LOUSE.  181 

in  the  open  air  have  been  discovered,  wnich  are  not 
encased  in  a  downy  stuff. 

The  injury  inflicted  by  the  aphis  maybe  estimated 
from  the  following-  extract : — "  Our  apple-trees  here 
are  greatly  injured,  and  some  annually  destroyed  by 
the  agency  of  what  seems  to  be  a  very  feeble  insect. 
We  call  it  from  habit,  or  from  some  unassigned 
cause,  the  '  American  blight'  (aphis  lanata) ;  this  nox- 
ious creature  being  known  in  some  orchards  by  the 
more  significant  name  of  'white  blight.'  In  the 
spring  of  the  year  a  slight  hoariness  is  observed  upon 
the  branches  of  certain  species  of  our  orchard  fruit. 
As  the  season  advances,  this  hoariness  increases,  it 
becomes  cottony,  and  towards  the  middle  or  end  of 
summer,  the  under  sides  of  some  of  the  branches 
are  invested  with  a  thick,  downy  substance,  so  long 
as,  at  times,  to  be  sensibly  agitated  by  the  air.  Upon 
examining  this  substance,  we  find  that  it  conceals  a 
multitude  of  small,  wingless  creatures,  which  are 
busily  employed  in  preying  upon  the  limb  of  the  tret; 
beneath.  This  they  are  well  enabled  to  do  by  means 
of  a  beak  terminating  in  a  fine  bristle ;  this  being 
insinuated  through  the  bark,  and  the  sappy  part  of  the 
wood,  enables  the  creature  to  extract,  as  with  a  sy- 
ringe, the  sweet,  vital  liquor  that  circulates  in  the 
plant.  This  terminating  bristle  is  not  observed  in 
every  individual :  in  those  that  possess  it,  it  is  of 
different  lengths,  and  is  usually,  when  not  in  use,  so 
closely  concealed  under  the  breast  of  the  animal,  as 
to  be  invisible.  In  the  younger  insects  it  is  often 
manifested  by  protruding  like  a  fine  termination  to 
the  anus ;  but  as  their  bodies  become  lengthened  the 
bristle  is  not  in  this  way  observable.  The  alburnum 
or  sap  wood,  being  thus  wounded,  rises  up  in  excres- 
cences and  nodes  all  over  the  branch,  and  deforms 
it ;  the  limb,  deprived  of  its  nutriment,  grows  sickly ; 
the  leaves  turn  yellow,  and  the  part  perishes.  Branch 
after  branch  is  thus  assailed,  until  they  .all  become 
leafless,  and  the  tree  dies. 
L-Q 


182  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH,  X. 

"  Aphides  in  general  attack  the  young-  and  softer 
parts  of  plants ;  but  this  insect  seems  easily  to  wound 
the  harder  bark  of  the  apple,  and  by  no  means  nxakes 
choice  of  the  most  tender  part  of  the  branch.  They 
give  a  preference  to  certain  sorts,  but  not  always  the 
most  rich  fruits ;  as  cider  apples  and  wildings  are 
greatly  infested  by  them,  and  from  some  unknown 
cause  other  varieties  seem  to  be  exempted  from  their 
depredations.  The  Wheeler's  russet,  and  Crofton 
pippin,  I  have  never  observed  to  be  injured  by  them. 
This  insect  is  viviparous,  or  produces  its  young  alive, 
forming1  a  cradle  for  them  by  discharging  from  the 
extremities  of  its  body  a  quantity  of  long,  cottony 
matter,  which,  becoming  interwoven  and  entangled, 
prevents  the  young  from  falling  to  the  earth,  and 
completely  envelopes  the  parent  and  offspring.  In 
this  cottony  substance  we  observe,  as  soon  as  the 
creature  becomes  animated  in  the  spring,  and  as 
long  as  it  remains  in  vigour,  many  round  pellucid 
bodies,  which,  at  the  first  sight,  look  like  eggs,  only 
that  they  are  larger  than  we  might  suppose  to  be 
ejected  by  the  animal.  They  consist  of  a  sweet, 
glutinous  fluid,  and  are  probably  the  discharges  of  the 
aphis,  and  the  first  food  of  its  young.  That  it  thus 
consumed  I  conjecture  from  its  diminution,  and  its 
by  no  means  increasing  so  fast  as  faecal  matter  would 
do,  from  such  perpetually  feeding  creatures.  I  have 
not,  in  any  instance,  observed  the  young  to  proceed 
from  these  globular  bodies,  though  they  are  found  of 
various  ages  at  all  times  during  the  season.  This 
lanuginous  vestiture  seems  to  serve  likewise  as  a 
vehicle  for  dispersing  the  animal ;  for  though  most 
of  our  species  of  aphis  are  furnished  with  wings,  I 
have  never  seen  any  individual  of  this  American 
blight  so  provided,  but  the  winds  wafting  about  small 
tufts  of  this  downy  matter,  convey  the  creature  with 
it  from  tree  to  tree  throughout  the  whole  orchard. 
In  the  autumn,  when  this  substance  is  generally  long, 
the  winds  and  rains  of  the  season  effectually  disperse 


CH.  X.]  THE  PLAXT-LOTTSE.  183 

these  insects,  and  we  observe  them  endeavouring  to 
secrete  themselves  in  the  crannies  of  any  neighbour- 
ing substance.  Should  the  savoy  cabbage  be  near 
the  trees  whence  they  have  been  dislodged,  the  ca- 
•vities  of  the  under  sides  of  its  leaves  are  commonly 
favourite  asylums  for  them.  Multitudes  perish  by 
these  rough  removals,  but  numbers  yet  remain ;  and 
we  may  find  them  in  the  nodes  and  crevices,  on  the 
under  sides  of  the  branches,  at  any  period  of  the 
year,  the  long,  cottony  vesture  being  removed,  but 
still  they  are  enveloped  in  a  fine,  short,  downy 
clothing,  to  be  seen  by  a  magnifier,  proceeding  appa- 
rently from  every  suture,  or  pore  of  their  bodies,  and 
protecting  them  in  their  dormant  state  from  the  mois- 
ture and  frosts  of  our  climate.  This  aphis,  in  a  na- 
tural state,  usually  awakens  and  commences  its  la- 
bours very  early  in  the  month  of  March ;  and  the  hoari- 
ness  on  its  body  may  be  observed  increasing  daily : 
but  if  an  infected  branch  be  cut  in  the  winter,  and  kept 
in  water  in  a  warm  room,  these  aphides  will  awaken 
speedily,  spin  their  cottony  vests,  and  feed,  and 
discharge,  as  accustomed  to  do  in  a  genial  season. 
"  tt  is  often  very  difficult  to  ascertain  the  first  ap- 
pearance of  many  creatures  not  natives  of  our  cli- 
mate, though  from  the  progress  of  science,  and  more 
general  observation,  many  things  will  be  recorded. 
The  first  visit  of  this  aphis  to  us  is  by  no  means 
clear.  The  epithet  of  American  blight  maybe  cor- 
rectly applied ;  but  we  have  no  sufficient  authority 
o  conclude  that  we  derived  this  pest  from  that  coun- 
try. Normandy  and  the  Netherlands,  too,  have  each 
been  supposed  to  have  conferred  this  evil  upon  us  ; 
but  extensively  as  this  insect  is  spread  around,  and 
favourable  as  our  climate  appears  to  be  to  its  increase, 
it  bids  fair  to  destroy  in  progression  most  of  our  old- 
est and  long-esteemed  fruit  from  our  orchards.  The 
same  unknown  decree,  which  regulates  the  increase 
and  decrease  of  all  created  beings,  influences  this 
insect;  yet  wet  seasons,  upon  the  whole,  seem 


184  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  X. 

genial  to  its  constitution.    In  the  hot  dry  summer  of 

1825,  it  was  abundant  every  where ;  in  the  spring  of 

1826,  which  was  unusually  fine  and  dry,  it  abounded 
in  such  incredible  luxuriance,  that  many  trees  seemed 
at  a  short  distance  as  if  they  had  been  white  washed: 
in  the  ensuing  summer,  which  was  a  very  dry  and 
hot  one,  this  cottony  matter  so  entirely  disappeared, 
that  to  superficial  observation  the  malady  was  not  in 
existence ;   and  it  did  not  become  manifest  again 
until  September,  when,  after  the  rains  of  that  season, 
it  reissued  in  fine,  cottony  patches,  from  the  old 
nodes  on  the  trees."  * 

From  the  peculiar  powers  with  which  nature  has 
invested  the  aphides,  and  from  their  extraordinary 
fecundity,  for  they  are  both  oviparous  and  viviparous, 
no  rational  man  can  doubt  that  they  form  an  im- 
portant link  in  the  economy  of  the  universe.  Their 
inordinate  increase  is  kept  in  check  by  other  insects, 
which  appear  to  be  born  for  no  other  purpose  than 
that  of  devouring  them.  Such  is  the  voracity  of 
this  tribe,  that  naturalists  term  them  aphidivorous 
insects:  they  are  of  different  species,  having  few 
qualities  in  common  except  this  faculty  of  devouring 
the  plant-louse ;  the  same  instinct  which  impels  cer- 
tain insects  to  deposite  their  eggs  in  the  midst  of  the 
food  which  is  to  support  the  yet  unborn  young,  causes 
others,  in  like  manner,  to  place  their  eggs  in  the 
midst  of  the  habitations  of  the  aphides.  In  this 
way  the  larvae  of  some  species  of  syrphus,  and  of 
hemerobius,  are,  as  Reaumur  says,  "bom  in  the 
midst  of  a  people,  pacific,  and  unprovided  with 
offensive  or  defensive  arms,  who  patiently  await  the 
mortal  blow  without  suspecting  the  quarter  whence 
it  comes." 

Tke  strength  and  size  of  the  syrphus  in  com- 
parison with  its  victim,  the  aphis,  is  that  of  a  lion 
to  a  kid. 

•Journal  of  a  Naturalist,  p.  347—352,  2d  ed. 


CH.X.]  THE    PLANT-LOUSE.  185 

In  the  following  magnified  figure  (fig.  1)  it  will  be 
seen  that  the  larva  tapers  from  the  head  to  the  tail ; 


under  the  head  is  a  mouth,  which  (fig.  2)  appears 
armed  with  two  horny  pins,  and  a  trident-like  dart ; 
between  these  is  the  orifice  of  the  mouth.  The 
creature  has  the  power  of  emitting  a  glutinous  se- 
cretion, by  means  of  which  it  fixes  itself  to  a  spot 
well  stocked  with  aphides,  where,  like  a  wolf  in  a 
sheepfold,  it  commits  the  most  dreadful  havoc :  thus 
attached  to  a  stem  or  a  leaf,  there  is  no  other  animal 
of  prey  which  hunts  with  so  much  ease.  It  begins 
by  turning  its  head  in  all  directions,  backwards,  for- 
wards, and  sideways,  until  it  meets  with  a  plant- 
louse,  which  it  instantly  transfixes  with  its  dart :  it 
then  contrives  to  adjust  the  body  of  the  aphis  over 
its  mouth  like  a  cork,  and  in  an  instant  the  victim, 
with  its  leg  stretched  out,  is  sucked  dry. 

Reaumur  used  to  make  these  syrphi  fast  a  few 
hours,  and  then  placing  one  on  his  hand,  he  could 
with  the  assistance  of  a  lens  see  the  whole  operation 
of  feeding,  and  observe  the  juices,  and  even  the 
young  aphides  sucked  out  of  the  body  of  their  parent, 
go  down  the  transparent  gullet  of  the  voracious 
larva.  The  drained  skin  of  the  aphis  is  then  thrown 
aside. 

It  is  easy  to  calculate,  that  if  they  ate  incessantly 
they  would  destroy  a  prodigious  number  of  aphides. 

Reaumur  has  seen  a  piece  of  stalk  seven  or  eight 
inches  long,  and  covered  with  plant-lice,  completely 
cleared  in  four  days  by  two  or  three  aphidivorous 
worms, 

Q2 


186  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  x. 

After  having  eaten  its  fill,  in  its  appointed  time  it 
seeks  the  hollow  of  a  leaf,  glues  itself  to  it,  and  con- 
tracting its  body  into  an  oval,  undergoes  that  species 
of  metamorphosis  in  which  the  insect  retracts  itself 
within  its  own  skin,  which,  becoming  hard,  forms  a 
cocoon,  and  ultimately  appears  in  its  perfect  form 
of  a  fly. 


Another  enemy  of  the  aphis  is  an  insect,  called  by 
Reaumur  the  lion  of  the  aphides  (hemerobius). 
"  We  sow  grain,"  says  he,  "  in  our  land,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  providing  ourselves  with  food.  It  appears 
that  nature  rears  aphides  on  plants  for  the  purpose 
of  feeding  other  species  of  insects,  which,  without 
them,  would  perish  of  hunger." 

The  following  figure  is  a  larva  of  the  lion  of  the 


aphides ;  a  title  which  it  well  deserves  from  its  vo- 
racity. The  largest  plant-louse  is  sucked  by  it  in  a 
few  moments ;  and,  like  its  prototype,  it  is  not  inac- 
tive, but  hunts  for  its  prey.  They  do  not  spare  even 
each  other ;  for,  if  by  chance  one  of  its  own  species 
should  be  found  between  its  suckers,  it  makes  not 


CH.  X.]  THE    HEMEROBIUS.  187 

the  least  objection  to  this  substitute  for  its  natural 
food. 

Reaumur  shut  up  twenty  of  these  ravenous  crea- 
tures in  a  box,  and  supplied  them  with  aphides  for 
food ;  they  were  reduced  in  a  few  days  to  three  or 
four,  these  having  eaten  the  rest. 

They  spin  a  cocoon  which  is  globular,  and  not 
bigger  than  a  pea,  and  yet  the  full-grown  insect 
conies  out  with  a  pair  of  such  ample  wings,  that  it 
is  a  matter  of  astonishment  how  these,  together  wi  Ih 
the  insect,  could  be  packed  up  in  so  small  a  ca&e. 
These  wings  are  so  fine  that  the  solar  rays  are 
broken  upon  them  as  on  a  prism  ;  indeed,  the  whole 
form  of  the  insect,  with  its  large  lustrous  eyes,  gos- 
samer wings,  the  tender  shining  and  golden  green 
of  its  body,  is  strikingly  beautiful. 


The  eggs  which  it  lays  are  remarkable,  inasmuch 
as  they  present  the  appearance  of  parasitical  plants, 
growing  from  the  leaf  to  which  they  are  attached ; 
the  stalks  are  about  an  inch  in  length,  white  and 
transparent.  The  mode  in  which  they  are  attached 
to  the  extremities  of  these  hairs  is  thus  explained 
by  Reaumur. 

The  egg  is  enveloped  in  a  viscous  matter  fit  for 
forming  silk.  Being  in  part  protruded,  the  insect 
applies  the  end  of  the  egg  bedewed  with  this  sub- 
stance to  the  leaf,  and  a  portion  of  the  glutinous 
stuff  thus  adheres  to  it.  It  then  withdraws  its  ab- 
domen, and  by  doing  so,  the  viscid  drop  is  length- 


188  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [cH.  X. 

ened  out ;  by  the  time  the  egg  is  expressed,  and  the 
body  of  the  insect  withdrawn  from  it,  it  is  found 
attached  to  a  thread  formed  of  glutinous  matter, 
which  now,  being  dry,  is  capable  of  supporting  the 
egg.  In  due  time  the  worm  pierces  its  aerial  habi- 
tation, descends  upon  the  leaf,  and  finds  itself  in  the 
midst  of  a  colony  of  aphides,  which  it  instantly 
attacks.  The  obvious  use  of  these  stalks  appears 
to  be  to  preserve  the  egg  from  being  covered  or  in- 
jured by  the  aphides  But  whether  this  be  the  true 
explanation  is  uncertain. 

The  larva  of  another  kind  of  hemerobius  clothes 
itself  in  an  artificial  manner,  and  for  this  purpose 
uses  the  skins  of  those  unfortunate  plant-lice  which 
it  had  previously  sucked.  Indeed  it  piles  up  such  a 
quantity  of  them  on  its  back,  as  to  look  as  if  it  car- 
ried a  little  mountain.  This  ostentatious  exhibi 
tion  of  its  trophies  does  not  appear  to  arise  from  any 
sentiment  of  vainglory;  for  when  Reaumur  re- 
moved these  skins,  the  insect  clothed  itself  with  the 
fragments  of  its  cocoon ;  and  on  this  coat  too  being 
taken  away,  an  abundant  supply  of  paper-shavings 
was  placed  within  its  reach :  "  Never,"  says  Reau- 
mur, "  was  so  much  convenient  matter  placed  at  the 
disposal  of  any  insect  of  this  kind ;  and  accordingly 
a  thicker,  more  complete,  and  a  higher  vest  was 
never  borne,  perhaps,  by  any  other  little  lion." 

The  structure  of  the  covering  thus  formed  is  rude 
enough.  The  parts  adhere  for  the  same  reason  that 
shreds  of  any  thing  adhere  to  one  another.  The 
insect,  however,  places  them  on  its  back  with  much 
address ;  it  lays  hold  of  the  material  or  skin  between 
its  hor'as,  so  that  it  rests  on  its  head ;  it  then  gives 
a  toss,  and  pitches  it  to  the  desired  spot ;  if  not  suc- 
cessful, a  few  contortions  of  its  body  bring  it  right. 
The  reason  of  this  anxiety  to  invest  their  bodies 
with  such  a  strange  covering  appears  to  be  to  de- 
ceive the  birds,  which  consider  them  as  dainties — 
at  least  this  is  M.  DumeriPs  opinion.  It  is  more 


CH.  X.]  THE  HEMEROBIUS.  189 

easy  to  believe  it  when  stated,  than  to  know  how 
the  author  of  the  assertion  could  find  it  out. 

Another  enemy  of  the  aphis  is  the  larva  of  the 
lady-bird.  It  is  difficult  to  trace  the  origin  of  the 
popular  custom  which  ensures  protection  to  these 
insects.  In  France  they  are  called  Betes  de  la 
Vierge,  or  Tactics  a  Dieu,  as  if  under  the  tutelary 
patronage  of  the  Virgin  herself.  But  they  really 
deserve  all  the  protection  they  receive ;  for  while 
they  leave  our  hops  and  valuable  plants  uninjured, 
they  destroy  the  greatest  enemy  of  these  vegetables 
— the  plant-louse.  "  If,"  says  Kirby,  "  we  could 
only  discover  a  mode  of  increasing  these  insects  at 
will,  we  might  not  only,  as  Dr.  Darwin  has  suggested, 
clear  out  hot-houses  of  aphides  by  their  means,  but 
render  our  crops  of  hops  much  more  certain  than 
they  now  are."  In  1827,  the  shore  at  Brighton,  and 
all  the  watering  places  on  the  south  coast,  were 
literally  covered  with  them,  to  the  terror  of  the  in- 
habitants: they  being  ignorant  that  these  insects 
were  emigrating  after  having  cleared  the  neighbour- 
ing hop-grounds  of  the  destructive  aphis. 

It  furnishes  a  subject  of  serious  consideration,  as 
well  as  an  argument  for  a  special  providence,  to 
Know,  that  the  accurate  Reaumur,  and  other  natu- 
ralists, have  observed,  that  when  any  kind  of  insect 
has  increased  inordinately,  their  natural  enemies 
have  increased  in  the  same  proportion  and  thus  pre- 
served the  balance. 


190  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [CH.  X! 


CHAPTER  XL 

Gnat — Bug — Fly-bug — Flea— Chigoe — Louse — Mites  and  Thicks — 
Gad-fly, 

THERE  are  few  insects  with  whose  form  we  are 
better  acquainted  than  that  of  the  gnat.  It  is  to  be 
found  in  all  latitudes  and  climates ;  as  prolific  in  the 
polar  as  in  the  equatorial  regions.  In  1736  they 
were  so  numerous,  and  were  seen  to  rise  in  such 
clouds  from  Salisbury  cathedral,  that  they  looked 
like  columns  of  smoke,  and  frightened  the  people, 
who  thought  the  building  was  on  fire.  In  1766,  they 
appeared  at  Oxford  in  the  form  of  a  thick  black 
cloud;  six  columns  were  observed  to  ascend  the 
height  of  fifty  or  sixty  feet.  Their  bite  was  attended 
with  alarming  inflammation.  To  some  appearances 
of  this  kind  our  great  poet  Spenser  alludes,  in  the 
following  beautiful  simile : — 

As  xvhen  a  swarm  of  gnats  at  eventide, 

Out  of  the  fennes  of  Allan  doe  arise, 

Their  murmurring  small  trumpets  sownden  wide, 

Whiles  in  the  air  their  clust'ring  army  flies, 

That  as  a  cloud  doth  seem  to  dim  the  ckies ; 

Ne  man  nor  beast  may  rest  or  take  repast, 

For  their  sh-irp  wounds  and  noyous  injuries, 

Till  the  fierce  northern  wind,  with  blus  ering  blast, 

Doth  blow  them  quite  away,  and  in  the  ocean  cast. 

In  Lapland  their  numbers  have  been  compared  to 
a  flight  of  snow  when  the  flakes  fall  thickest,  and  the 
minor  evil  of  being  nearly  suffocated  by  smoke  is 
endured  to  get  rid  of  these  little  pests.  Captain 
Stedman  says,  that  he  and  his  soldiers  were  so  tor- 
mented by  gnats  in  America  that  they  were  obliged 
to  dig  holes  in  the  ground  with  their  bayonets,  and 
thrust  their  heads  into  them  for  protection  and  sleep. 
Humboldt  states,  that  "between  the  little  harbour 


CH.  XI.]  THE  GNAT.  191 

of  Higuerote  and  the  mouth  of  the  Rio-Unare,  the 
wretched  inhabitants  are  accustomed  to  stretch 
themselves  on  the  ground,  and  pass  the  night  buried 
in  the  sand  three  or  four  inches  deep,  exposing  only 
the  head,  which  they  cover  with  a  handkerchief." 

After  enumerating  these  and  other  examples  of 
the  achievements  of  the  gnat  and  mosquito  tribe, 
Kirby  says,  "  It  is  not  therefore  incredible  that 
Sapor,  king  of  Persia,  should  have  been  compelled 
to  raise  the  siege  of  Nisibis  by  a  plague  of  gnats, 
which  attacked  his  elephants  and  beasts  of  burden, 
and  so  caused  the  rout  of  his  army ;  nor  that  the 
inhabitants  of  various  cities  should,  by  an  extraor- 
dinary multiplication  of  this  plague,  have  been  com- 
pelled to  desert  them ;  nor  that,  by  their  power  of 
doing  mischief,  like  other  conquerors  who  have  been 
the  torment  of  the  human  race,  they  should  have 
attained  to  fame,  and  have  given  their  name  to  bays, 
towns,  and  territories."* 

The  instrument  with  which  they  inflict  their  tor- 
tures, simple  as  it  appears  to  the  eye,  is  neverthe- 
less wonderfully  complicated  and  ingenious :  it 
forms  a  set  of  lancets,  consisting  of  five  pieces, 
enclosed  in  a  case.  This  case  is  split  from  one  end 
to  the  other,  and,  as  the  creature  sucks,  it  serves  to 
give  steadiness  to  the  instruments,  while  they  are 
thrust  forward  into  our  flesh.  In  the  first  figure 
(Jig'  1),  the  lancets  alone  are  seen  entering,  and 
their  case  forms  an  arc,  supporting  them.  In  the 
second  (Jig.  2),  the  lancets  are  perceived  to  have 
penetrated  more  deeply,  while  the  case,  not  enter- 
ing, is  seen  to  form  an  angle. 

In  order  to  see  the  whole  process  of  suction, 
Reaumur  courted  what  most  others  sedulously  shun 
— a  sting  or  two :  "  After  a  gnat  had  done  me  the 
kindness  of  settling  on  the  hand  I  stretched  out,  I 
saw  that  it  protruded  a  very  fine  point  from  its  pro- 

*  Mosquito  Bay.  Mosquitos,  a  town  in  Cuba,  Mosquito  country 
in  North  America. 


192 


NATURAL    HISTORY. 


.  XI 


boscis,  with  the  extremity  of  which  it  felt  four  01 
five  spots  of  my  skin.  It  would  appear  that  it  knows 
where  it  can  pierce  through  most  easily,  and  reach 
a  large  blood-vessel.  Having  selected  a  spot  for  its 
operations,  it  soon  causes  the  sufferer  to  feel  its 
sting."  The  fine  point  when  magnified  presents  the 
following  formidable  picture,  of  which  some  of  the 


detached  pieces  seem  admirably  fitted  for  the  gnat's 
purpose  and  our  annoyance.  It  is  not  however,  the 
introduction  of  these  points,  which,  when  combined, 
are  as  much  less  in  size  than  the  finest  needle,  as 
that  is  than  a  sword,  that  causes  the  irritation  which, 
when  extended  over  the  limb,  has  in  some  cases  ren- 
dered amputation  necessary— the  gnat  introduces  a 
little  liquid,  for  the  purpose,  as  Reaumur  conjectures, 
of  rendering  our  thick  blood  thin  enough  to  be 
sucked  through  its  proboscis.  To  allay  the  effects 
of  this  poison,  there  seems  to  be  no  better  or  readier 
means  than  sweet-oil,  which,  if  applied  to  the  wound 
within  a  few  hours  after  it  has  been  made,  will  re- 
move the  swelling,  although  when  delayed  five  or 
six  hours  it  has  no  effect. 


CH.  XI.]  THE    GNAT.  193 

The  gnat  undergoes  many  metamorphoses.  If 
water  be  allowed  for  some  time  to  stand  still  in  a 
bucket,  or  if  a  quantity  of  that  fluid  be  taken  from 
a  stagnant  pool,  it  will  be  found  to  contain  innu- 
merable aquatic  insects  of  the  following  shape  (fig.  1) : 
these  are  the  larvae  of  the  gnat ;  they  swim  with  the 
head  downwards,  a  position  which,  to  most  animals, 
would  be  fatal ;  they  retain  the  longest  tube,  which 
is  their  respiratory  organ,  on  the  surface ;  the  other 
tube  forms  the  anus.  In  this  state  they  live  on  the 
contents  of  stagnant  waters,  and  change  their  skins 
several  times. 


After  having  thrice  got  rid  of  its  skin,  the  gnat 
appears  in  a  new  form,  for,  instead  of  being  oblong, 
it  is  lenticular  (  *ig.  2).  The  surface  of  the  circle  is 
vertical  to  the  water.  In  this,  which  is  its  nymphine 
state,  it  is  still  capable  of  moving  briskly  after  the 
manner  of  a  shrimp,  by  expanding  and  elongating 
its  body  (fig.  3),  and  striking  the  water  with  the  fins 
at  its  tail.  In  this  stage  of  its  metamorphosis,  it 
has  no  organ  for  food,  and  it  seems  to  require  none 
but  a  regular  arid  abundant  supply  of  air  appears 
indispensable ;  it  floats  on  the  surface  of  the  water, 
and  only  descends  by  efforts  made  with  its  tail. 
Two  ears  may  be  observed  sticking  out  at  the  thick- 
est part ;  these  are  its  respiratory  organs,  and  afford 
a  curious  instance  of  an  import*>Vt  part,  being  re- 
l.— R 


194  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [cH.  XI. 

moved  from  one  extremity  of  the  body  to  the  other 
during1  the  progress  of  an  insect  through  its  different 
stages  of  life. 

Its  last  metamorphosis  into  a  winged  fly  is 
attended  with  curious  circumstances.  When  nature 
has  prepared  the  insect  to  change  its  element,  instead 
of  lying  rolled  up  on  the  surface  of  the  water,  it 
stretches  out  its  body,  and  by  some  mechanism, 
puffs  up  its  corslet  so  that  it  splits  between  the  stig- 
mata or  the  breathing-horns.  As  soon  as  the  fissure 
is  sufficiently  enlarged  to  make  way  for  it,  the  head 
of  the  gnat  appears  in  its  perfect  shape ;  but  this  is 
the  most  critical  period  of  its  whole  life ;  up  to  this 
time  it  was  an  aquatic  animal ;  now  it  has  nothing 
to  dread  so  much  as  the  water.  It  has,  moreover, 
the  use  neither  of  leg  nor  wing;  these  members  are 
as  yet  soft,  moist,  and  bound  up,  and  it  only  pro- 
trudes itself  from  its  skin,  by  means  of  a  wriggling 
action  given  to  its  body.  If  at  this  critical  juncture 
the  water  should  happen  to  touch  its  corslet  or  ab- 
domen, the  gnat  would  inevitably  and  instantly 
perish.  In  such  circumstances,  then,  it  requires  the 
prudence  of  an  old  gnat,  at  least,  to  escape  the  dan- 
gers which  surround  the  young  one.  Nature,  how- 
ever, has  conferred  upon  the  insect  an  instinct  suit- 
able to  the  emergency.  As  soon  as  it  puts  out  its 
head,  it  elevates  it  above  the  water ;  and  worming 
itself  out  always  perpendicularly,  supported  only  by 
the  inequalities  of  the  skin  which  it  is  about  to  cast 
off,  with  no  power  to  balance  itself,  surrounded  by 
an  unfriendly  element,  it  literally  becomes  a  canoe, 


CH.  XI.  |  THE    GNAT.  193 

of  which  its  own  body  forms  mast  and  sail.  The 
skin  floats,  and  when  the  observer  perceives,  says 
Reaumur,  how  much  the  prow  of  the  little  bark 
sinks,  and  how  near  its  sides  are  to  the  water,  he 
forgets  at  the  moment  that  the  gnat  is  an  insect 
which  at  another  time  he  would  kill ;  nay,  he  be- 
comes anxious  for  its  fate,  and  the  more  so  if  the 
slightest  breeze  play  on  the  surface  of  the  water : 
the  least  agitation  of  the  air  suffices  to  waft  the 
creature  with  swiftness  from  place  to  place,  and 
make  it  spin  round  and  round.  Its  body,  folded  in 
its  wings,  bears  a  greater  proportion  to  the  little 
skiff,  than  the  largest  mass  of  sail  to  a  ship:  it  is 
impossible  not  to  dread  lest  the  insect  should  be 
wrecked ;  once  laid  on  its  side  on  the  water,  there 
is  no  escape.  Reaumur  has  seen  the  surface  of  the 
water  covered  with  creatures  of  this  kind  which  had 
thus  perished  at  their  birth.  Generally,  however, 
all  terminates  favourably,  and  the  danger  is  over  in, 
a  minute.  After  having  stood  perpendicularly,  it 
draws  out  its  two  fore-legs,  and  bending  to  the 
water,  places  them  on  its  surface,  which  is  terra 
firma  for  a  gnat's  weight ;  having  secured  this  posi- 
tion, all  is  safe ;  the  wings  dry  and  expand,  and  the 
insect,  quitting  its  natal  element,  mounts  into  the  air. 
It  is  supposed,  that  from  the  end  of  May  to  that 
of  October,  six  or  seven  generations  of  these  insects 
are  born,  and  each  gnat  is  capable  of  laying  two 
hundred  and  fifty  eggs.  These  are  found  agglu- 
tinated into  a  mass,  and  swimming  about  on  the 
surface  of  water :  they  are  individually  olive-shaped, 
the  large  end  being  in  the  water,  the  rest  in  the  air. 


196  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [CH.  XI 

When  conjoined,  the  upper  surface  of  the  mass  pre- 
sents to  the  eye  the  appearance  of  an  infinite  series 
of  points.  In  arranging  and  floating  this  raft  of 
eggs  the  gnat  displays  surprising  ingenuity.  They 
are  discharged  one  by  one,  vertically,  and  not  hori- 
zontally from  the  extremity  of  the  insect ;  for  this 
purpose  it  generally  fixes  itself  on  some  solid  sub- 
stance, such  as  the  bank  of  the  water,  or  on  a  float- 
ing leaf.  Standing  on  its  four  feet,  it  stretches  out 
the  two  hindmost  legs;  these  being  crossed,  form 


an  angle  in  which  the  first  egg  is  laid ;  the  second  is 
placed  next,  and  they  adhere  by  means  of  a  gluti- 
nous matter  surrounding  each.  The  gnat  places  them 
thus  with  the  abdomen  solely:  when  a  sufficient 
number  of  eggs  have  been  placed  side  by  side,  to 
render  the  base  of  the  mass  large  enough  to  balance 
the  height — for  it  is  clear  that  a  few  eggs  only  could 
not  float  upright  on  so  narrow  a  stem  as  they  pos- 
sess— the  gnat  launches  its  precious  vessel,  and 
fearlessly  commits  its  cherished  young  to  that  little 
ocean  which  is  fraught  with  so  many  dangers  to 
itself. 

The  mass  thus  glued  together,  consisting  of  be- 
tween two  hundred  and  fifty  and  three  hundred  eggs, 
is  of  an  oblong  form,  and  considerably  resembles  a 
little  boat  in  shape.  And  it  possesses  not  only  the 
form,  but  also  most  of  the  other  properties  of  a  boat ; 
its  fore  and  hind  parts  being  sharp  and  higher  than 
the  middle  ;  the  lower  part  on  which  it  always  floats 
being  convex,  and  the  upper  part  concave.  It  is 
likewise  so  buoyant  that  no  agitation  of  the  water, 
however  violent,  can  sink  it ;  and  what  is  still  more 
deserving  of  admiration,  although  hollow,  it  never 


CH.  XI. J  THE    FLY-BUG.  197 

becomes  filled  with  water,  even  when  exposed  to 
the  violence  of  the  torrents  which  frequently  ac- 
company a  thunder-storm.  "  To  put  this  to  the 
test,"  says  Kirby,  "I  yesterday  (July  25,  1811)  put 
half  a  dozen  of  these  boats  upon  the  surface  of  a 
tumbler,  half-full  of  water.  I  then  poured  upon 
them  a  stream  of  that  element,  from  the  mouth  of  a 
quart  bottle,  held  a  foot  above  them.  Yet  after  this 
treatment,  which  was  so  rough  as  actually  to  project 
one  out  of  the  glass,  I  found  them  floating  as  before 
upon  their  bottoms,  and  not  a  drop  of  water  within 
their  cavity." 

Another  of  our  tormentors  is  the  bug,  which  as  it 
would  appear  has  not  been  long  known  in  this  island. 
Had  the  insect  been  common,  as  Kirby  justly  ob- 
serves, the  two  noble  ladies  mentioned  by  Mouffet 
would  scarcely  have  mistaken  their  bites  for  plague 
spots.  They  were  first  known  by  the  name  of 
wall-louse.  It  was  not  until  the  middle  of  the  last 
century  that  they  began  to  be  styled  bugs,  or  gob- 
lins ;  the  word  being  of  Celtic  origin,  and  used  in 
old  versions  of  the  Bible,  in  the  sense  of  spirit: 
thus,  in  Matthews's  Bible,  Ps.  xci.  5,  the  passage 
translated  in  our  modern  version,  "  Thou  shalt  not 
be  afraid  for  the  terror  by  night,"  is  rendered,  "  Thou 
shalt  not  nede  to  be  afraide  of  any  bugs  by  night." 
Horrible  ac  these  disgusting  creatures  are,  it  would 
appear  that,  at  Surat,  there  was,  or  perhaps  there 
still  is,  a  Banian  hospital,  containing  not  only  horses, 
pigs,  mules,  oxen,  sheep,  goats,  monkeys,  pigeons, 
and  poultry,  but  also  an  extraordinary  ward  appro- 
priated to  rats,  mice,  and  bugs;  and  Forbes,  upon 
the  authority  of  whose  Oriental  Memoirs  this  is 
stated,  adds,  that  beggars  are  hired,  who,  for  a  sti- 
pulated sum,  agree  to  pass  a  night  at  this  institution, 
in  order  to  afford  "  the  fleas,  lice,  and  bugs"  an  un- 
molested feast ! 

A  species  of  bug,  described  by  Geoffrey  unde 
the  name  of  fly-bug  (reduvius  personatus),  is  an  in- 
R2 


198  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [cH.  XI. 

habitant  of  our  dwellings.  It  prowls  about  in  dis- 
guise, at  night,  and,  among  other  insects,  shows  it- 
self the  uncompromising  enemy  of  the  loathsome 
bed-bug.  Kirby  thinks  it  ought  on  this  account  to 
be  encouraged ;  but  its  own  bite,  as  painful  as  the 
sting  of  the  bee,  and  its  supposed  power  of  com- 
municating an  electric  shock  on  the  slightest  contact, 
would  render  the  remedy  somewhat  worse  than  the 
evil.  Tn  its  three  states  of  grub,  nymph,  and  winged 
insect,  it  is  ever  on  the  look  out  for  food.  Being 
slow  of  motion,  though  capable,  like  a  crab,  of 
walking  backwards,  sideways,  or  forwards,  it  is 
obliged  to  entrap  its  prey  by  masking  itself:  hence 
its  cognomen,  "  personatus."  Knowing  that  the 
insects  for  which  it  is  on  the  hunt  are  accustomed 
to  the  sight  of  dirt,  cobwebs,  flue,  and  such  other 
materials  as  are  usually  found  in  the  habitations  of 
man,  the  reduvius  piles  upon  itself  bits  of  hair,  flour, 
down  of  feathers,  sawdust  or  plaster,  so  as  to  en- 
^arge  its  own  dimensions  to  twice  or  thrice  the  na- 
tural size ;  and  thus  accoutred  it  is  scarcely  to  be 
recognised  by  its  prey,  or  by  its  own  enemies,  as 
any  thing  but  a  ball  of  flue.  When  it  sees  a  bug,  or 
spider,  or  any  soft-bodied  insect,  it  approaches  its 
destined  victim  with  the  most  guarded  caution. 
Sometimes  the  little  lump  of  gathered  dust  seems  to 
be  blown  about  the  room  in  a  zig-za^  direction : 
sometimes  it  is  puffed  into  the  air,  and  falls  as  if  a 
chance  gust  had  acted  on  it.  These  motions,  how- 
ever, are  any  thing  but  unintentional.  After  stealth- 
ily sideling,  or  making  little  leaps,  followed  by 
intervals  of  motionless  repose,  the  better  to  deceive 
its  prey,  the  creature  at  last  contrives  to  secure, 
paralyze,  and  suck  its  victim's  juices  to  the  very 
last  drop.  When  it  has  acquired  the  wings  of  its 
perfect  state,  it  doffs  its  cassock,  and  boldly  flies 
about  without  disguise. 

The  flea  is  another  of  our  pests,  yet  it  has  been 
domesticated  by  some  curious  persons.    Thus,  the 


CH«  XL]  THE    CHIGOE    OR   JIGGER.  199 

naturalist  Willoughby  kept  a  tame  one,  which  was 
fed  not  only  with,  but  literally  out  of,  his  own  hand, 
being  permitted  to  suck  his  blood.  Others  have 
contrived  a  pigmy  chariot,  cut  from  the  cherry- 
stone, to  be  dragged  by  a  team  of  these  nimble 
creatures.  Wherever  they  swarm  it  is  no  easy 
matter  to  get  rid  of  them.  In  order  to  prevent  be- 
ing eaten  up  by  these  insects  and  lice,  the  Hunga- 
rian shepherds  are  said  to  grease  their  bodies  and 
linen  with  lard,  so  that  even  these  unscrupulous  tor- 
mentors are  deterred  from  the  filthy  banquet.  They 
abound  so  much  in  the  Missouri  country,  that  the 
natives  are  often  obliged  to  shift  their  quarters. 
Once  when  th  late  Dr.  Clarke  was  rejoicing  at  the 
thought  of  passing  one  night  free  from  vermin,  his 
expectations  were  speedily  dissipated  by  the  sheikh 
of  the  district,  who  assured  him  that  the  "  king  of 
the  fleas  held  his  court  at  Tiberias." 

The  chigoe  or  jigger  is  a  species  of  this  genus. 
The  female  lodges  under  the  skin,  where  it  breeds 


its  young.  Formerly  the  genus  of  the  insect  was  a 
subject  of  dispute  ;  and  a  capuchin  friar  suffered  one 
to  breed  in  his  great  toe,  for  the  purpose  of  bringing 
it  up  to  determine  the  point.  His  scientific  zeal, 
however,  cost  him  a  foot,  for  the  member  containing 
the  precious  deposite  having  mortified,  its  amputation 
became  indispensable.  The  male  is  not  very  unlike 
the  common  flea.  The  abdomen  of  the  female, 


200  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [cH.  XI. 

however,  like  that  of  the  queen  of  the  white  ants, 
the  cocci,  &c.,  enlarges  to  an  enormous  size  when 
full  of  young. 

A  greater  abomination  than  any  of  these  is  the 
louse.  It  is  said  that  on  the  third  day  of  the  disease 
called  plica  Polonica,  in  which  the  hair  of  the  head 
becomes  painful  and  distended  with  blood  so  as  to 
drain  the  patient  if  cut,  they  appear  in  myriads. 
Leuwenhoek  has  calculated  that  a  female  lays  at 
least  sixty  eggs  in  six  days ;  that  in  six  days  more 
the  young  appear ;  that  in  eighteen  days  more  they 
are  capable  of  propagating;  so  that,  according  to 
his  calculation,  two  families  of  lice  would,  in  sixty 
days,  have  fifteen  thousand  descendants. 

Since  the  days  of  Pharaoh,  Herod,  Scylla,  and 
Philip  II.,  these  horrid  infesters  of  our  race,  three 
species  of  which  attach  themselves  as  parasites  to 
man,  have  given  a  name  to  a  disease,  which,  though 
extremely  rare,  is  not  fictitious — the  phthiriasis,  or 
tnorbus  pedicular  is. 

The  mite  tribe  (acari)  is  another  class  of  insects, 
which  sometimes  cause  the  most  horrible  maladies 
to  man.  They  are  oviparous,  and  those  which 
swarm  in  rotten  cheese  will  give  a  correct  notion  of 
the  general  form  of  the  whole  class.  Heberden  and 
Willan,  in  modern  times,  have  recorded  dreadful  in- 
stances of  the  sufferings  which  they  have  inflicted 
upon  the  human  race.  They  penetrate  under  the 
skin,  and  multiply  in  little  tumours,  which,  when 
opened,  swarm  with  these  creatures.  Mouffet  states 
of  the  Lady  Penruddock,  that  mites  swarmed  on 
every  part  of  her  body ;  on  the  eyes,  nose,  gums, 
head,  soles  of  the  feet,  putting  her  to  daily  and 
nightly  torture ;  so  that  all  the  flesh  of  her  body 
being  consumed,  she  at  length  had  the  happiness  to 
die! 

It  has  been  also  asserted  that  the  itch  is  caused 
by  the  presence  of  a  mite.  The  insect,  says  Lin- 
naeus, insinuates  itself  under  the  skin,  and  there 


CH.  XI.]  ACARI MITES  AND  TICKS.  201 

produces  a  little  vesicle  from  whence  it  never  moves. 
An  experienced  eye  will  readily  detect  its  lurking 
place,  and  an  experienced  hand  as  readily  remove  it 
with  the  point  of  a  pin.  If  it  be  placed  on  the  nail 
it  remains  immoveable  until  warmed  by  the  breath, 
when  it  runs  with  great  agility. 

Almost  all  the  vegetable  and  animal  matter  used 
by  man  is  infested  by  some  species  of  this  insect : 
dried  meat,  old  bread,  flour,  sweetmeats,  cheese, 
soon  swarm  with  an  extremely  minute  and  active 
ra^e  of  mites,  any  of  which,  when  viewed  with  the 
microscope,  appear  covered  with  hair ;  and,  what  is 
-curious,  each  hair  is  as  moveable  as  the  quills  of  the 
porcupine :  consequently  in  an  animal  invisible  to 
the  naked  eye,  it  is  probable  that  each  hair  has  a 
muscle  attached  to  it.  These  insects  multiply  both 
in  winter  and  summer,  and  as  they  arrive  at  perfec  • 
tion  in  a  week,  it  may  be  imagined  what  myriads 
must  be  generated.  In  fact,  to  these  little  creatures 
is  intrusted  the  task  of  clearing  away  much  of  the 
dead  matter  which  would  otherwise  annoy  us.  As 
they  are  imperceptible,  says  Latreille,  an  infinite 
number  must  enter  into  the  bread  we  eat,  especially 
if  it  be  made  of  old  flour. 

Our  domestic  quadrupeds  furnish  a  lodging  for 
acari.  They  appear,  in  the  first  instance,  to  be  ge- 
nerated in  the  woods,  and  whenever  the  dog,  the  ox, 
or  even  man,  comes  into  contact  with  them,  they 
bury  their  trunk  in  the  skin,  and  suck  the  blood  with 
avidity. 

Their  body  is  smooth,  and  their  shape  a  little  oval 
sac  or  cup, — a  reservoir  for  the  vital  fluid.  The 
trunk  or  pump  is  furnished  on  each  side  with  a  set  of 
teeth  like  those  of  a  saw,  and  it  is  by  means  of  the 
hold  these  afford  that  the  acarus  is  enabled  to 
fix  itself  so  firmly.  The  mite  known  to  the  older 
naturalists  by  the  name  of  reduvius  fixes  itself  to 
cattle  and  sheep,  by  a  similar  trunk,  the  teeth  of 
which  are  turned  backwards.  These,  like  several  of 


202  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  xi 

their  tribe,  have  a  sort  of  vesicular  enlargement  on 
their  feet :  this  bladder  seems  to  be  moved  in  various 
directions,  and  assumes  various  shapes ;  and  as  the 
animal  can  fix  itself  or  walk  upon  the  most  polished 
mirror,  it  is  not  improbable  that  they  effect  their  ob- 
ject, after  the  manner  of  the  fly,  by  exhausting  the  air. 
The  woods  of  the  southern  provinces  of  both  the 
Americas  are  infested  by  a  species  of  acarus,  which 
proves  a  terrible  pest  to  man  and  beast.  They  who 
sit  down  on  the  stumps  of  trees,  or  heaps  of  dried 
leaves ;  they  who  happen  to  walk  barefoot,  are  soon 
covered  with  little  slow-moving  creatures,  which, 
fixing  on  the  naked  skin,  suck  the  live  blood,  and 
become  distended  to  the  size  of  half  an  inch  in  length, 
and  a  quarter  of  an  inch  in  height  and  breadth.  They 
swarm  in  such  multitudes  on  cattle,  and  inflict  such 
wounds,  that  these  often  perish.  At  first  the  sensa- 
tion is  scarcely  perceptible,  afterward  a  pleasant 
itching  comes  on ;  which  is  succeeded  by  acute  pain. 
If  the  part  be  examined,  the  insect  will  be  found  half 
buried  in  the  flesh,  and  its  place  marked  by  a  swelJ- 
ing  of  the  size  of  a  pea.  In  endeavouring  to  ex- 
tract this  pest,  the  utmost  care  must  be  used ;  for  it 
will  sooner  be  pulled  asunder  than  loose  its  hold ;  and 
should  this  accident  happen,  the  portion  of  the  insect 
which  is  left  in  the  skin  will  cause  a  deep  and  ill- 
conditioned  sore,  accompanied  with  intolerable  itch- 
ing, which,  it  is  said,  has  sometimes  rendered  it  in- 
dispensable to  amputate  the  limb.  Kalm  says  he  has 
seen  them  fixed  to  the  bellies  of  horses,  in  such  num- 
bers, that  the  point  of  a  knife  could  not  be  insinu- 
ated between  any  two  tumours,  and  the  wretched 
animals,  after  being  drained  and  weakened,  died  in 
the  greatest  tortures.  He  adds,  that,  like  leeches, 
when  they  have  sucked  their  fill,  they  will  drop  off; 
having  taken  two  of  these,  and  enclosed  them  in  a 
box,  he  found  that  they  began  to  lay,  and  he  counted 
upwards  of  a  thousand  eggs,  which  each  had  depo- 
sited, and  still  they  had  not  finished. 


CH.  XI.]          ACARI MITES  AND  TICKS.  203 

Sparrman  asserts,  that  he  found  several  acari,  of 
the  largest  dimensions,  on  three  rhinoceroses  re- 
cently killed ;  and  that  when  these  were  gorged  with 
blood,  they  became  distended  to  an  enormous  size. 

Birds  are  infested  with  acari :  the  domestic  fowl, 
the  sparrow,  the  peacock,  are  worlds  for  minuter 
creatures,  which  attack  them  as  parasites,  like  the 
species  already  mentioned.  Some  others  of  this  fa- 
mily, besides  having  their  extremities  terminating  in 
bladders,  capable  of  being  inflated  and  contracted  at 
will,  are  furnished  with  a  crotchet  or  hook,  on  the 
under  part  of  each  bladder.  This  mechanism  ren- 
ders it  extremely  difficult  to  dislodge  them  when  they 
have  once  settled.  Not  only  man,  and  the  giants  of 
the  creation,  whether  vegetable  or  animal,  are  sub- 
jected to  the  attacks  of  these  tiny  depredators,  but 
insects  themselves  must  furnish  nourishment  to  still 
smaller  insects ;  and  even  the  smallest  of  those 
which  are  visible  to  the  naked  eye,  present  a  wide 
range  for  some  puny  parasite.  The  bee,  the  beetle, 
and  the  dragon-fly  may  be  seen  covered  by  these 
creatures.  The  spider,  at  all  times  offensive,  be- 
comes loathsome  when  its  body  is  eaten  up  with 
acari.  The  common  fly  must  yield  up  its  juices  to 
its  parasites,  and  the  gnat  which  steals  a  minute  drop 
from  man,  provides  an  ocean  of  nourishment  for  the 
little  hexapodes,  which  lodge  under  the  ample  folds 
of  its  body.  The  minute  plant-lice,  which  drain  the 
vegetable  world,  are  themselves  drained  in  their  turn. 
But  there  are  some  species  of  insects,  which  are  in- 
fested by  acari  whose  habits  are  perfectly  unique. 
De  Geer  observed  a  heap  of  small  acari  piled  on  the 
body  of  a  species  of  beetle  (leptura),  which  prevented 
it  from  walking,  and  appeared  to  inflict  upon  it  the 
greatest  torment.  On  examining  this  heap  with  a 
lens,  what  was  hi?  astonishment  in  discovering  that 
the  acari  composing  it  formed  a  chain  of  suckers ! 
The  first  sucked  the  leptura,  the  second  sucked  the 
sucker,  and  the  third  drained  the  second.  Each  of 


204  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [cH.  XI. 

these  acari  has  a  sort  of  tube  issuing  from  its  tail, 
which  is  funnel-shaped  at  both  ends.  The  loose  ex- 
tremity is  applied  so  firmly  to  the  insect  to  be  sucked, 
that  it  cannot  be  removed  even  by  the  acarus  itself 
without  great  exertion. 

Of  the  mites  which  infest  vegetables,  our  gardens 
furnish  innumerable  examples.  The  little  green- 
ish creatures  which  cover  the  leaves  with  a  thin 
film,  and  lodge  in  it  in  myriads,  ruining  our  fruits 
and  garden-stuff,  are  too  well  known  to  require  de- 
scription. 

Besides  these  various  species  of  stationary  acari, 
which  perish  when  the  animal  or  vegetable  on  which 
they  feed  perishes,  there  are  others  called  wanderers, 
which  are  common  both  to  plants  and  animals.  Of 
this  description  is  the  acarus  autumnalis,  or  harvest- 
bug.  This  is  a  little  red  insect,  which  creates  a  fu- 
rious itching  wherever  it  buries  itself. 

What  the  gall-fly  does  to  a  plant,  the  gad-fly 
(nestrus)  does  to  our  cattle :  it  deposites  its  egg  under 
the  skin  of  the  animal,  and  thus  gives  rise  to  what 
may  be  justly  termed  an  animal  gall.  These  tu- 
mours are  to  be  found  most  frequently  on  young  and 
well-fed  calves ;  and  far  from  being" any  drawback 
in  the  estimation  of  the  purchaser,  cattle-breeders 
prefer  those  animals  in  which  they  exist,  being  well 
aware  that  the  instinct  of  the  parent  insect  causes  it 
to  place  its  young  only  where  its  food  is  most  abun- 
dant— that  is,  under  the  skin  of  such  of  our  cattle  as 
are  full  of  juices  and  health.  The  tanners  also  pre- 
fer those  skins  which  abound  in  bot-holes,  oecause 


they  are  the  thickest  and  strongest.    As  soon  as  the 
worm  has  quitted  the  egg,  it  finds  itself  in  a  nest, 


CH.  XI.]  THE  GAD-FLY.  205 

which  affords  it  shelter,  food,  and  an  equal  tempera 
ture  in  all  seasons. 

The  egg,  having  been  introduced,  gives  rise  to  a 
tumour,  which  gradually  enlarges  with  the  growth 
of  its  inhabitant ;  during  this  period,  the  hole  perfo- 
rated by  the  insect  to  deposite  its  egg,  so  far  from 
closing,  becomes  wider.  The  hot,  or  worm,  requires 
•  a  constant  supply  of  fresh  air ;  and  its  stigmata,  si- 
tuated at  its  posterior  extremity,  are  constantly  ap- 
plied to  the  orifice.  In  this  it  acts  like  a  skilful  sur- 
geon, who  desires  to  keep  an  issue  open ;  for  the  ap- 
plication of  its  tail  to  the  orifice  keeps  up  the  irrita- 
tion and  prevents  its  closing.  Not  only  must  there 
be  an  opening  for  the  admission  of  the  air,  but,  as 
the  hot  subsists  on  the  pus  which  arises  from  the  in- 
terior of  the  tumour,  if  there  were  no  outlet  for  the 
excess,  its  too  great  accumulation  would  convert  the 
nest  into  an  abscess,  in  which  the  animal,  instead  of 
being  nourished,  would  be  destroyed. 

When  it  has  acquired  its  full  growth,  its  old  habi- 
tation becomes  unfit  for  its  approaching  metamor- 
phosis ;  accordingly,  it  dilates  the  orifice  of  the  tu- 
mour by  using  its  own  body  in  the  same  manner  as 
a  surgeon  applies  a  sponge-tent.  It  thrusts  a  ring  or 
two  through  the  hole,  and  then  withdraws  them,  and 
so  on,  until  it  crawls  out  backwards.  This  opera- 
tion, according  to  Reaumur,  is  usually  completed  in 
the  cool  of  the  morning.  The  worm,  having  es- 
caped from  its  den,  rolls  off  the  animal  on  which  it 
has  fed,  and  falling  on  the  ground,  seeks  the  sheltei 
of  some  fissure,  or  stone,  and  there  its  own  skin  har 
den»  into  a  black  cocoon,  within  which  it  under- 
goes its  last  change,  when  it  comes  out  a  perfect 
insect. 


206  NATURAL    HISTORV.  [CH.  XL 

Other  species  of  the  oestrus  infest  the  intestinal  ca- 
vity of  the  horse.  The  oestrus  equi  is  found  in  the 
stomach ;  the  parent  insect  deposites  its  egg  about 
the  shoulder  of  the  horse,  where  it  can  be  easily 
reached  by  the  tongue ;  the  irritation  causes  the  ani- 
mal to  lick  the  part ;  and  by  this  means  the  bot  is 
introduced  into  the  only  place  which  affords  the  vis- 
cid nutriment  and  due  heat  requisite  for  its  full  de- 
velopement. 

The  oestrus  hemorrhoidalis  chooses  the  anal  extre- 
mity of  the  horse  to  deposite  its  egg.  According  to 
Clark,  the  egg  is  deposited  on  the  edge,  and  the  larva 
creeps  through  the  whole  length  of  the  intestines. 
Dr.  Gaspari  saw  the  perfect  insect  hover  about  one 
of  his  horses  apparently  for  the  purpose  of  laying 
its  egg ;  its  attempts  caused  the  animal  to  plunge, 
kick,  and  run,  and,  in  short,  excited  that  furor,  which 
induced  the  ancients  to  give  these  insects  their  de- 
signation of  oestrus.  Not  being  successful,  the  crea- 
ture insinuated  itself  with  less  noise  under  the  tail 
of  another  horse  which  was  feeding  quietly  by  itself. 
Its  attack  seemed  at  first  to  excite  itching,  and  the 
fly  profited  by  the  irritation  thus  produced  to  effect 
a  lodgment.  Soon  after  this  happened,  the  horse 
ran  about,  plunged,  and  then  threw  himself  on  the 
ground ;  and  did  not  recommence  feeding  until  after 
the  lapse  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  The  worm  is  pro- 
vided with  hooks,  by  means  of  which  it  retains  its 
place.  It  also,  when  sufficiently  developed,  falls  off 
the  horse,  and,  like  the  oestrus  bovis,  undergoes  its 
metamorphosis  on  the  ground. 

A  third  species  of  oestrus  is  found  in  the  nostrils 
of  sheep,  goats,  and  various  other  animals.  The 
egg  is  lodged  in  the  frontal  sinus,  in  the  midst  of  the 
mucus  which  they  contain. 

"In  Lapland,"  says  Linnaeus,  "there  is  a  fly  co- 
vered with  a  downy  hair,  called  the  rein-deer  gad- 
fly ;  it  hovers  all  day  over  these  animals ;  their  legs 
tremble  under  them,  they  prick  up  their  ears  and  flee 


CH.  XI.]  THE    GAD-FLY.  207 

to  the  mountains  covered  with  snow  and  ice ;  with 
so  much  horror  do  they  avoid  so  minute  an  insect 
hovering  in  the  air.  This  fly  endeavours  to  lodge 
its  egg  on  the  back  of  the  deer,  which  being  effected 
the  worm  perforates  the  skin,  remains  under  it  the 
whole  winter,  and  in  the  following  year  becomes  a 
fly." 

Although  Linnaeus  has  attributed  the  perforation 
of  the  skin  to  the  larva,  it  is  probable  that  the  same 
process  which  has  already  been  detailed  in  treating 
of  the  oestrus  bovis,  is  also  followed  by  this  species. 
But  another  kind  of  oestrus  lodges  near  the  gullet 
of  the  deer,  and  there  the  larvae  take  up  their  abode 
in  families  consisting  of  one  hundred  or  more  indi- 
viduals. At  each  side  of  the  root  of  the  tongue 
there  is,  according  to  Reaumur,  a  slit,  in  the  pharynx 
or  gullet  of  the  deer,  which  leads  to  two  fleshy  ca- 
vities, which  he  calls  purses.  We  do  not  know, 
says  he,  of  what  use  they  are  to  these  large  animals, 
but  they  are  essential  to  the  worms  which  are  deve- 
loped within  them.  If  they  are  not  made  for  these, 
if  they  are  useful  to  the  deer,  at  all  events,  He  who 
constructed  the  cavities,  and  formed  the  insects, 
knew  that  they  were  necessary  to  the  existence  of 
these  worms,  and  so  taught  them  to  lodge  in  their 
destined  repositories ;  for  all  that  is  essential  to  their 
nourishment  and  growth  is  contained  within  these, 
and  is  not  to  be  found  elsewhere.  The  question  is 
how  the  perfect  insect  contrives  to  deposite  its  young 
in  a  spot  which  none  but  an  anatomist  can  detect, 
and  to  reach  which  requires  the  boldness  and  dex- 
terity of  a  creature  which  is  regardless  of  its  own 
life.  If  we  consider  that  nature  has  endowed  the 
deer  with  the  power  of  ejecting  any  substance  an- 
noying the  nostrils,  by  sneezing — the  power  of  en- 
veloping any  thing  irritating  the  palate  in  a  viscid 
saliva,  or  crushing  it  by  means  of  grinder  teeth,  we 
must  gfive  due  credit  to  a  fly,  which,  in  spite  of  these 
obstacles,  manages  to  reach  the  cavities  in  question. 


208  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  XII. 

If,  however,  *ve  recollect  the  boldness  with  which 
the  oestrus  of  the  horse  enters  the  intestine  of  that 
animal,  we  shall  not  be  astonished  to  find  that  a  fly, 
as  full  of  care  and  foresight  for  its  young,  should, 
with  equal  courage,  enter  the  nostril  of  the  deer. 
According  to  Reaumur,  the  creature  boldly  walks 
into  the  cavities,  and  proceeding  to  the  extremity, 
comes  at  once  on  the  fleshy  purses  at  the  root  of  the 
tongue :  in  these  the  female  fly  deposites  her  eggs, 
and  leaves  them  in  a  matrix  furnished  with  a  supply 
for  every  want. 

Humboldt,  Bonpland,  and  Gmelin  have  discovered 
a  species  of  gad-fly  which  attacks  min.  It  is  a  na- 
tive of  South  America,  and  is  about  the  size  of  a 
common  house-fly.  It  deposites  its  egg  under  the 
skin  of  the  abdomen,  where  it  forms  a  swelling  of 
the  nature  of  that  on  oxen,  and  other  animals,  in 
which  the  grub  remains  for  six  entire  months.  If 
molested,  it  sinks  deeper  and  deeper,  and,  creating 
ulcers  or  inflammation,  often  causes  death. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Ichneumon-fly— Deposites  its  Eggs  in  the  Bodies  of  other  living  In 
sects — Thirty  or  Forty  in  the  Body  of  a  Caterpillar — Dragon-fly — Its 
Voracity — Ferocity. 

To  the  numerous  tribes  of  Ichneumons  is  allotted 
by  nature  the  task  of  restraining  the  superabundance 
of  the  rest  of  the  insect  world.  They  were  called 
by  the  more  ancient  authors  Muscce  tripiles,  on  ac- 
count of  their  abdomen  being  terminated  by  an  ovi- 
positor, composed  of  three  hair-like  pieces,  or  Muscce 
vibratorice,  from  their  habit  of  constantly  vibrating 
their  antennae  or  feelers. 

The  most  interesting  portion  of  their  history  is 
the  mode  in  which  they  are  propagated.  Other  in  • 


- 

CH.  XII.]  THE  ICHNEUMON-FLY.  20i 

sects  either  nourish  their  young  themselves,  or  place 
them  in  the  midst  of  an  element  which  contains  the 
food  which  they  require  ;  but  these  present  the  ano- 
maly of  cradling  their  offspring  in  the  living  bodies 
of  other  insects. 

They  vary  in  size,  from  the  minutest  to  the  largest " 
among  insects.  They  deposite  their  eggs  some- 
times on  the  outside,  but  mostly  on  the  inside  of  the 
insect  which  they  attack  ;  and  it  is  only  to  the  three 
first  insect  forms  of  egg,  larva,  and  pupa  that  they 
choose  to  commit  their  offspring.  By  means  of  their 
Irng  ovipositor  they  pierce  the  cell  of  the  gall-fly,  or 
the  nest  of  the  solitary  and  the  social  humble  bee  ;  in 
short,  when  pressed  to  lay  their  eggs,  nothing  can 
escape  them.  Neither  the  vigilance  of  the  parent 
nor  the  solidity  of  the  habitation  can  defend  the 
young  of  other  insects  from  their  attacks.  These 
grow  up  just  so  long  as  is  requisite  to  supply  the 
young  ichneumon  which  is  feeding  on  their  vitals ; 
and  when  it  is  ready  to  emerge,  they  die. 

Those  which  are  obliged  to  pierce  the  nests  of  in 
sects,  in  order  to  deposite  their  eggs,  are  provided 
with  a  long  ovipositor ;  those  which  simply  pierce 
the  insect  itself  have  only  short  ones. 


Fig.  1.  The  ichneumon  fly,  with  its  ovipositor. 

2.  The  ovipositor,  seen  to  consist  of  thiee  pieces. 

3.  The  centre  piece  or  tube  through  M  hich  the  egg  is  trans- 

mitted. It  is  serrated  at  the  end,  and  the  two  lines  which 
run  from  it  ought  to  have  represented  a  string  of  mucus., 
•which  is  lodged  with  the  egg,  wherever  the  latter  is  de» 
posited. 

S2 


210  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [cH.  XII. 

The  preceding  (fig-  1)  is  a  figure  of  an  ichneumon 
of  the  first  kind.  The  long  tail  consists  of  three 
hairs,  as  in  the  second  figure  ;  the  two  lateral  enclose 
the  middle  one  as  in  a  sheath;  the  central  fillet  is 
round  throughout  the  greater  part  of  its  length,  but 
at  the  end  pointed  like  a  pen,  flattened  and  serrated 
as  in  the  third  figure. 

The  following  figure  represents  the  short  oviposi- 
tors of  those  ichneumons  which  pierce  the  insect 
only.  It  lies  concealed  in  a  groove  under  the  ab- 
domen. 


Reaumur  gives  the  following  account  of  the  ope- 
rations  of  the  ichneumon  (Cotnitator,  F.)  while 
piercing  the  cell  of  that  species  of  solitary  wasp 
which  feeds  its  young  with  green  caterpillars.  He 
had  covered  a  wall  with  sandy  mortar  for  the  pur- 
pose of  enticing  these  wasps  to  make  their  nests 
under  his  eye ;  they  did  so  in  great  numbers. 

"  I  saw,"  says  he,  "  this  ichneumon  at  the  very 
moment  it  settled  on  the  spot  under  which  so  many 
little  animals  were  hidden.  Its  long  tail,  which  it 
dragged  after  it,  appeared  to  form  but  one  thread, 
though  in  reality  it  was  composed  of  three.  It  soon, 
however,  put  it  to  use :  it  showed  me  that  it  was  not 
only  capable  of  raising  or  depressing  it,  but  also  that 
it  could  bend  it  in  various  directions,  and  that  in  dif- 
ferent portions  of  its  length."  It  bent  its  tail,  and 
carried  it  under  its  body,  so  as  to  protrr.de  it  consi- 
derably beyond  its  own  head ;  and  it  directed  it  to 
the  spot  which  its  instinct  pointed  out  as  the  place  in 
which  the  young  wasp  was  concealed. 

"  Although,"  continues  Reaumur,  "  the  creature 
did  not  seem  disturbed  by  my  observations,  still  I 
could  not  see  whether  the  serrated  point  protruded 


CH.  XII. J  THE  ICHNEUMON-FLY.  211 

beyond  the  case  which  contained  it :  this,  however, 
I  did  see — that  it  gave  the  whole  apparatus  move- 
ments well  adapted  to  make  way  even  in  this  mor- 
tar. It  turned  it  half  round  from  right  to  left,  and 
then  back  from  left  to  right.  I  looked  on  for  a  full 
quarter  of  an  hour  before  the  ichneumon  had  suc- 
ceeded." 

The  following  figures  will  perhaps  serve  to  give  a 
clearer  insight  into  the  manoeuvres  of  this  insect, 
while  driving  its  ovipositor  deeper  and  deeper. 

123 


The  cuts  represent  an  ichneumon  fly  settled  on  a  wall,  in  which  it 

has  discovered  the  nest  of  the  mason- wasp. 
In  the  1st  figure,  the  ovipositor,  or  instrument  with  which  the  insect 

pierces  the  cells  of  the  wasp,  is  seen  to  be  directed  under  the  belly 

of  the  ichneumon. 
In  the  2d  figure,  the  insect's  head  being  too  near  the  point  of  the  wall 

which  is  to  be  pierced,  the  long  ovipositor  is  obliged  to  be  thrown 

back  into  a  curve ;  and,  being  thus  shortened,  it  is  seen  to  pass 

under  the  belly  of  the  ichneumon. 
In  the  3d  figure,  the  ovipositor,  being  still  too  long,  is  curved  behind 

the  insect.    It  is  then  passed  under  its  belly,  and  is  seen  like  a 

thread  supported  by  the  right  fore-leg  of  the  ichneumon.    In  order 

to  prevent  this  instrument  from  bending,  while  the  insect  immerses 

it  into  the  mortar,  it  is  obliged  to  support  it  with  the  end  of  its  leg. 

The  other  two  hair-like  lines  are  intended  to  represent  the  ameimo 

of  the  insect 
The  three  figures  convey  a  good  notion  of  the  great  flexibility  of  the 

ovipositor,  and  the  facility  with  which  the  insect  can  use  it  under 

any  circumstances. 

The  manoeuvres  of  those  ichneumons  which  at- 
tack the  insect  itself  are  as  curious.  The  body  of 
the  caterpillar  is  the  matrix  destined  to  receive  the 
eggs  of  this  species.  The  little  fly  may  be  seep 


212 


NATURAL  HISTORY. 


[CH    Xli. 

pouncing  upon  a  caterpillar,  walking-  over  its  body, 
stopping  at  certain  parts,  and  wounding  it  with  the 
little  sabre-like  ovipositor.  It  is  in  vain  the  cater- 
pillar turns  and  twists  itself  about ;  the  ichneumon 
is  not  at  all  discomposed,  but  reiterates  the  wounds 
in  thirty  or  forty  different  places,  and  in  each  depo- 
ites  an  egg.  These  are  placed  deep  enough  to 
allow  the  caterpillar  to  change  its  skin  without  get- 
ting rid  of  the  parasitical  young  of  its  enemy.  Aftei 
a  time,  the  caterpillar  is  covered  with  little  inequali- 
ties, which  grow  higher  and  higher,  so  that  it  pre- 


sents a  hideous  figure.  Its  body  is  studded  with  the 
larvae  of  the  ichneumon,  protruding  themselves  per- 
pendicularly as  soon  as  they  emerge  ;  the  pain  occa- 
sioned by  thirty  or  forty  larvae  thus  boring  into  its 
carcass  at  one  time  soon  causes  the  caterpillar  to 
die  in  a  sort  of  convulsion.  The  larvae  set  about 
spinning  their  cocoons  round  the  carcass,  and  after- 
ward undergo  their  allotted  changes. 

These  are  gregarious;  and  when  the  caterpillar 
is  opened,  may  be  found  equally  developed  and  regu- 
larly arranged  in  its  interior.  The  miracle  is,  that 
the  caterpillar,  thus  perforated,  should  not  die :  were 


CH.  XII.]  THE  DRAGON-FLY.  213 

this  to  take  place,  nature  would  be  defeated.  These 
little  worms  never  attack  a  vital  organ ;  they  con- 
sume only  the  fat  that  surrounds  the  alimentary 
canal.  The  caterpillar  goes  on  feeding  as  usual, 
and  thus  continues  the  supply  necessary  for  the  full 
growth  of  the  larvae  of  the  ichneumon  till  such  time 
as  these  are  fit  to  emerge.  The  instinct  of  those 
ichneumons  which  deposite  only  one  egg  in  one  in- 
sect is  still  more  extraordinary.  If  another  perches 
on  one  which  has  already  had  an  egg  confided  to  it, 
by  some  sense  it  discovers  the  fact  that  it  has  been 
anticipated,  and  flies  off,  as  if  aware  that  there  is 
just  food  enough  for  one  larva,  and  that  if  two  were 
deposited,  both  would  starve. 

Another  and  a  most  destructive  enemy  of  the 
living  insect  is  the  tribe  of  libellula,  or  dragon-fly,  a 
name  which  they  well  merit  from  their  voracious 
habits. 

The  French  have  chosen  to  call  them  "demoi- 
selles," from  the  slim  elegance  and  graceful  ease 
of  their  figure  and  movements.  But,  although  their 
biilliant  colouring,  the  beauty  of  their  transparent 
and  wide-spread  wings,  may  give  them  some  claim 
to  this  denomination,  yet  they  scarcely  would  have 
received  it  had  their  murderous  instincts  been  ob- 
served. So  far  from  seeking  an  innocent  nurture  in 
the  juice  of  fruits  or  flowers,  they  are  (says  Reau- 
mur) warriors  more  ferocious  than  the  Amazons. 
They  hover  in  the  air  only  to  pounce  upon  other  in- 
sects, which  they  crush  with  their  formidable  fangs ; 
and  if  they  quit  the  banks  of  the  rivulet,  where  they 
may  be  seen  in  numbers  during  an  evening  walk,  it 
is  only  to  pursue  and  seize  the  butterfly  or  moth, 
which  seeks  the  shelter  of  the  hedge. 

The  waters  are  their  birth-place ;  their  eggs  are 
protruded  into  this  element  at  once,  in  a  mass  which 
resembles  a  cluster  of  grapes.  The  larva  which 
comes  out  of  these  eggs  is  six-footed.  The  only 
difference  between  the  larva  and  nymph  is,  that  the 


£14  NATURAL   H 3TORY.  [cH.  XII. 

latter  has  the  rudiments  of  wings  packed  up  in  small 
cases  on  each  side  of  the  insect. 


In  this  latter  state  it  is  supposed  that  the  creature 
lives  at  the  bottom  of  the  water  for  a  year.  It  is 
equally  voracious  then  as  in  its  perfect  state.  Its 
body  is  covered  by  bits  of  leaf,  wood,  and  other 
foreign  matters,  so  as  to  afford  it  a  complete  disguise, 
while  its  visage  is  concealed  by  a  prominent  mask, 
which  hides  the  tremendous  apparatus  of  serrated 
teeth,  and  serves  as  a  pincer  to  hold  the  prey  while 
it  is  devoured. 


Its  mode  of  locomotion  is  equally  curious;  for 
though  it  can  move  in  any  direction,  it  is  not  by 
means  of  feet  or  any  direct  apparatus  that  it  moves, 
but  by  a  curious  mechanism,  which  has  been  well 
illustrated  by  Reaumur  and  Cuvier.  If  one  of  these 
nymphs  be  narrowly  observed  in  water,  little  pieces 
of  wood  and  other  floating  matters  will  be  seen  to 
be  drawn  towards  the  posterior  extremity  of  the 
insect,  and  then  repelled ;  at  the  same  time  that 
portion  of  its  body  will  be  observed  alternately  to 
open  and  shut.  If  one  of  them  be  placed  in  wat3r 
which  has  been  rendered  turbid  by  milk,  or  coloured 
with  indigo,  and  then  suddenly  removed  into  a  more 
limpid  fluid,  a  jet  of  the  coloured  water  will  be  seen 


CH.  XII.]  THE  DRAGON-FLY.  215 

to  issue  from  the  anal  extremity  of  the  libellula,  to 
the  extent  sometimes  of  several  inches ;  at  the  same 
time  the  force  with  which  the  column  is  ejected 
propels  the  insect  in  the  opposite  direction,  by  vir- 
tue of  the  resistance  with  which  it  meets.  Hence 
it  appears  that  it  is  by  means  of  its  respiratory  sys- 
tem that  the  creature  walks — a  strange  and  anoma- 
lous combination  of  functions  in  one  organ. 

If  the  insect  be  taken  out  of  the  water,  held  with 
its  head  downwards,  and  a  few  drops  of  that  fluid 
poured  on  its  tail,  that  which  was  a  mere  point  will 
immediately  open  and  display  a  cavity ;  at  the  same 


time  the  body  of  the  insect,  which  was  before  flat, 
will  be  observed  to  be  enlarged  and  inflated,  and  if 
held  up  to  the  light,  semi-transparent:  moreover, 
something  solid  will  appear  to  be  displaced  by  the 
water,  and  driven  towards  the  head.  This  solid 
mass  will  shortly  descend,  obscure  the  transparency 
of  the  lower  portion  of  the  body  of  the  insect,  lessen 
its  diameter,  and,  when  it  does  so,  a  jet  of  water 
will  issue  from  the  vent.  It  is  clear,  then,  that  the 
abdomen  of  the  libellula  is  a  syringe,  the  piston  of 
which  being  drawn  up,  of  course  the  pressure  of  the 
fluid  fills  up  the  vacuum,  and,  when  pushed  down, 
expels  the  water.  To  ascertain  the  fact,  Reaumur 
held  the  insect  in  his  hand,  and  when  he  saw  its 
body  inflated,  cut  it  immediately  with  a  pair  of  scis- 
sors, and  found  it  unoccupied  with  solids.  He 
watched  when  the  jet  of  water  was  expelled  in  an 
other,  and  as  soon  as  the  body  was  darkened  ana 
lessoned  in  diameter,  he  clipped  it.,  and  found  the  cut 
portion  occupied  by  solids.  There  is  no  doubt,  then. 


216 


NATURAL  HISTORV. 


[CH.  XII 

that  the  abdomen  contains  a  moveable  piston,  and 
this  piston  is  composed  of  the  air  tubes.  There  are 
four  of  these  longitudinal  trunks,  although  two  only 


are  represented,  they  terminate  in  innumerable 
smaller  ones,  and,  according  to  Reaumur,  perform 
the  functions  of  respiration,  as  well  as  locomotion, 
in.  the  ways  detailed. 

After  the  voracious  creature  has  lain  in  ambus- 
cade, devouring  the  larvae  of  the  gnat  and  other 
aquatic  insects,  till  its  appointed  hour  of  change,  it 
leaves  its  natal  element  for  the  shore,  to  undergo  its 
last  metamorphosis:  for  this  purpose  it  usually 
fastens  itself  to  some  friendly  plant,  and  begins  the 
important  process  which  is  to  convert  an  aquatic  ani- 
mal into  an  inhabitant  of  the  air. 

Any  person  who  should  at  this  period  choose  to 
seize  a  number  of  them,  and,  taking  them  into  his 
chamber,  fix  them  to  a  bit  of  tapestry,  would  be  re- 
warded for  his  trouble  by  witnessing  the  conversion 
Of  an  aquatic  into  an  aerial  insect. 

It  may  easily  be  seen  by  the  eyes  of  the  nymph 
whether  it  is  about  to  change  its  form;  for,  instead 


CH.  XII.]  THE  DRAGON-FLY.  217 

of  remaining  tarnished  and  opaque,  they  suddenly 
become  transparent  and  brilliant.  This  change  is 
owing  to  the  visual  organ  of  the  perfect  insect,  which 
is  amazingly  lustrous,  shining  through  the  mask  of 
the  nymph.  If  the  eye  of  the  nymph  be  removed, 
that  of  the  perfect  insect  may  be  seen  beneath.  As 
soon  as  the  nymph  has  fixed  itself  to  any  object  by 
means  of  its  claws,  the  first  sign  of  the  commencing 
metamorphosis  is  a  rent  in  the  upper  skin,  extend- 
ing along  the  corslet  to  the  head.  When  it  ap- 
proaches this  latter  part,  another  rent,  perpendicular 
to  the  first,  runs  across  the  face  from  eye  to  eye. 


I.--T 


218  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  XII. 

These  rents  are  brought  about  by  a  power  which 
the  insect  possesses  of  inflating  its  body  and  head. 
This  last  organ,  ultimately  destined  to  become  fixed 
and  solid,  is  at  this  period  capable  of  contraction 
and  dilatation,  like  a  membrane. 

The  head  and  corslet  being  exposed,  the  legs  are 
drawn  out  from  their  nymphine  cases.  At  this  period 
every  part  of  the  insect  is  soft.  The  four  figures  in 
the  preceding  page  illustrate  its  mode  of  exit. 

In  the  first  (Jig.  1),  it  is  partially  out;  in  the  se- 
cond (fig'.  2),  after  having  protruded  itself  thus  far, 
it  hangs  with  its  head  downwards,  and  remains  mo* 
tionless,  so  as  to  lead  the  observer  to  believe  that 
the  efforts  which  it  had  hitherto  made  had  exhausted 
its  strength,  and  that  it  had  thus  perished  in  the  act 
of  being  born.  However,  it  remains  in  this  position 
just  so  long  as  to  permit  its  body  and  limbs  to  be 
hardened  and  dried  by  the  air,  and  then  it  reverses 
it  to  that  of  fig.  3,  forming  anarch ;  this  enables  the 
insect  to  draw  out  its  tail  from  the  mask. 

When  it  has  just  cast  off  that  tenement  in  which 
it  had  till  now  existed,  the  body  of  the  libellula  is 
soft,  has  not  attained  its  full  length,  and  the  wings 
are  still  folded.  It  remains,  therefore,  tranquil  and 
motionless  till  these  important  operations  have  taken 
place,  which  are  finished  sooner  or  later,  according 
to  the  heat  or  moisture  of  the  atmosphere.  The 
operation  may  be  completed  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
or  take  up  several  hours,  according  to  circumstances. 
The  wings  unfold  themselves  in  every  direction ; — 
it  is  supposed  that  this  curious  mechanical  effect  is 
brought  about  by  means  of  the  fluids,  which  rush 
into  and  distend  them ;  for  they  remain  drooping  as 
wet  paper  if  the  insect  die  in  the  act  of  metamor- 
phosis ;  so  that  something  more  than  drying  is  ne- 
cessary. During  the  time  that  the  wings,  from 
being  shrivelled  and  flexible,  are  becoming  firm  and 
glistening  as  talc,  the  dragon-fly  takes  care  not  to 
allow  even  its  own  body  to  obstruct  their  expansion 


CH.  XIII. J  THE  ANT-LION. 

in  the  proper  direction,  and  for  this  purpose  bends  it 
from  them,  as  in  fig.  4 ;  for  if  they  took  a  wrong 
fold  at  this  moment,  they  would  for  ever  retain  the 
deformity.  Provision  is  even  made  to  prevent  the 
wings  from  coming  in  contact  with  each  other ;  for, 
instead  of  being  all  in  the  same  horizontal  plane,  as 
they  subsequently  are,  they  are  perpendicular  to  the 
insect,  and  thus  ranged  side  by  side. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE    ANT-LION. 


OF  all  the  creatures  which  secure  their  prey  by 
stratagem,  there  is  perhaps  none  more  singular  in 
its  manners  and  habits  than  the  ant-lion  (tormica- 
leo).  It  is  an  inhabitant  of  the  south  of  Europe. 
When  full  grown,  its  length  is  about  half  an  inch : 
and  in  form  it  in  some  degree  resembles  a  wood- 
louse  ;  it  has  six  legs,  and  the  mouth  is  furnished 
with  a  forceps,  consisting  of  two  jaws  curving  in- 
wardly, which  give  it  a  very  formidable  appearance. 


220  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [CH.  XIII. 

But  looking  at  its  form  alone,  a  person  imperfectly 
acquainted  with  its  habits  and  economy  would  be 
apt  to  set  it  down  as  the  most  helpless  of  all  created 
animals.  Its  food  consists  solely  of  the  juices  of 
other  insects,  particularly  ants  ;  but  at  first  view  it 
appears  impossible  that  it  should  ever  secure  a  sin- 
gle meal ;  for  its  powers  of  locomotion  are  so  feeble, 
that  it  can  walk  only  at  a  very  slow  pace,  and  that 
backwards;  he  never  follows  his  prey,  and  would 
sooner  perish  with  hunger  than  advance  one  step 
towards  it.  Thus  accomplished  for  the  pursuit,  it 
stands  but  a  poor  chance  of  being  able  to  hunt  down 
an  active  ant ;  nor  would  his  prospects  be  mended 
by  standing  still ;  its  grim  and  forbidding  aspect  is 
such  as  to  deter  every  vagrant  insect  from  venturing 
within  its  reach.  In  the  choice  of  its  food  the  insect 
shows  itself  a  finished  epicure ;  however  pressed  by 
the  calls  of  appetite,  it  will  taste  no  carcass  except 
what  it  has  itself  killed  :  and  of  this  it  only  extracts 
the  finer  juices.  Thus  delicate  in  its  appetite,  and 
thus  apparently  incapable  of  securing  a  supply  of 
food,  what  is  to  become  of  the  poor  ant-lion  ?  How 
does  an  insect,  thus  to  all  appearance  unfitted  by  its 
natural  habits  to  provide  a  supply  even  of  the  coarsest 
food,  contrive  to  secure  a  succession  of  delicacies  1 
It  accomplishes,  by  the  refinement  of  art  and  stra- 
tagem, what  would  utterly  baffle  all  its  open  exer- 
tions— it  excavates  a  conical  pit ;  and,  concealing 
itself  at  the  bottom,  calmly  lies  in  wait  for  any  un- 
lucky insect  which  may  chance  to  stumble  over  the 
margin  and  fall  into  its  den. 

For  the  purpose  of  excavating  this  trap,  it  seeks 
a  spot  of  loose  and  dry  sand,  under  the  shelter  of 
an  old  wall,  or  at  the  foot  of  a  tree.  Two  circum- 
stances incline  it  to  select  a  spot  of  this  description ; 
in  such  a  soil  its  snare  is  constructed  with  the  least 
possible  trouble ;  and  the  prey  most  agreeable  to 
its  appetite  particularly  abounds  in  such  places. 
Having  fixed  upon  a  spot  proper  for  its  purpose,  it 


CH.  XIII.]  THE   ANT-LION.  221 

traces  in  the  sand  a  circular  furrow  which  is  to  de- 
termine the  extent  of  its  future  abode.  The  outline 
of  the  hollow  which  it  intends  to  excavate  being1 
drawn,  it  proceeds  with  its  task.  Placing  itself  on 
the  inside  of  the  circular  furrow  previously  traced, 
it  thrusts  the  hind  part  of  its  body  like  a  plough- 
share, under  the  sand ;  and  using  one  of  its  fore- 
legs as  a  shovel,  it  deposites  a  load  of  sand  upon 
its  head,  which  is  flat  and  square :  it  then  gives  its 
head  a  jerk,  sufficiently  strong  to  toss  this  load  to  a 
distance  of  several  inches  beyond  the  outward  cir- 
cle. All  this  is  executed  with  a  wonderful  degree 
of  celerity  and  address.  Always  going  backwards, 
the  same  process  is  repeated,  until  it  reaches  that 
part  of  the  circle  where  it  commenced  its  opera- 
tions. Another  furrow  is  then  excavated  inside  of 
the  first  circle  ;  this  is  succeeded  by  others,  until  at 
last  the  insect  arrives  at  the  centre  of  its  intended 
hollow.  One  peculiarity  deserves  to  be  pointed 
out ;  the  insect  neither  uses  its  outward  leg  nor  dis- 
turbs the  sand  lying  on  the  outside  of  the  circle ; 
using  the  inner  leg  only,  it  loads  its  head  with  sand 
taken  from  the  inside  of  the  circle.  It  seems  to  be 
well  aware  that  the  sand  within  the  circle  is  all  that 
requires  to  be  removed,  and  also  that  this  can  be 
effected  only  by  using  the  inside  leg.  If  both  the 
legs  were  used  at  the  same  time,  the  excavation 
would  assume  the  shape  of  a  cylinder,  and  not  that 
,of  a  cone ;  which  is  the  only  form  that  can  suit  the 
purpose  of  the  insect.  It  must,  however,  be  obvious, 
that  if,  throughout  the  whole  of  this  laborious  pro- 
cess, one  leg  continued  to  be  exclusively  used,  the 
limb  would  get  tired.  To  obviate  this  inconveni- 
ence, nature  has  taught  the  little  pioneer  to  adopt  an 
apt  expedient :  one  furrow  having  been  completely 
excavated,  another  is  traced  in  an  opposite  direction ; 
this  brings  into  play  the  leg  which  had  been  previ- 
ously at  rest.  It  frequently  happens  that  small 
Btones  impede  the  progress  of  its  labours;  these. 
T2 


222  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [CH.  XIII. 

are  all,  one  by  one,  placed  upon  its  head,  and  jerked 
beyond  the  outer  margin  of  the  excavation.  But 
when  arrived  near  the  bottom,  it  sometimes  en- 
counters a  pebble  too  large  to  be  removed  even  by 
this  process,  its  head  not  having  sufficient  breadth 
and  strength  to  bear  so  bulky  and  so  heavy  a  sub- 
stance :  while  the  hole  is  too  deep  to  admit  of  its 
being  projected  over  the  margin.  In  this  dilemma 
the  little  engineer  is  not  destitute  of  resources.  A 
new  mode  of  proceeding  is  adopted,  suitable  to  the 
difficulty  which  the  insect  has  to  overcome.  By  a 
series  of  the  most  ingenious  movements,  it  con- 
trives to  lift  the  pebble  upon  its  back,  where  it  is 
kept  in  a  steady  position  by  means  of  the  segments 
which  compose  that  part.  Having  thus  secured  the 
pebble  from  the  chance  of  falling,  the  indefatigable 
labourer  resolutely  walks,  tail  forwards,  up  the 
slope  of  the  excavation,  and  deposites  its  burden  on 
the  outside.  When  the  stone  to  be  removed  hap- 
pens to  be  round,  the  insect's  task  becomes  more  ar- 
duous and  difficult :  in  this  emergency,  the  proceed- 
ings of  the  little  ant-lion  cannot  fail  to  excite  the 
deepest  sympathy.  With  incredible  exertion  it  lifts 
the  pebble  on  its  back ;  it  then  commences  its  re- 
trograde ascent  up  the  slope  of  the  den :  but  at  every 
step  of  its  progress,  the  load  may  be  seen  to  totter 
to  one  side  or  the  other ;  but  the  expert  porter  ele- 
vates the  segments  of  its  back  in  order  to  restore 
the  balance.  It  sometimes  occurs,  that,  when  it  has 
very  nearly  reached  the  top  of  the  excavation,  a 
false  step  causes  it  to  stumble :  in  this  unlucky  case, 
all  its  efforts  are  frustrated,  and  the  stone  rolls 
headlong  to  the  bottom.  Mortified,  but  not  despair- 
ing, the  unwearied  ant-lion  returns  to  the  charge ; 
again  places  the  stone  on  its  back,  and  again  as- 
cends the  sloping  side,  artfully  availing  itself  of  the 
channel  which  had  been  formed  by  the  rolling  stone 
—the  sides  of  this  channel  frequently  serving  to 
support  the  load.  Throughout  the  whole  progress 


L'H.  XIII.]  THE    AXT-LIOX.  223 

of  the  work,  the  insect  shows  itself  a  most  expert 
engineer.  It  describes  a  perfect  circle,  and  traces 
out  a  volute,  without  the  assistance  of  a  pair  of 
compasses  ;  and  gives  the  slope  of  earth  which  it 
hollows  all  the  solidity  of  which  it  is  susceptible. 

Desirous  to  witness  the  ingenuity  and  try  the 
perseverance  of  one  of  these  creatures,  M.  Bonnet 
threw  a  good-sized  pebble  into  the  den;  its  removal 
seemed  to  be  quite  essential,  for  the  ant-lion  left  its 
work  to  effect  it.  To  toss  it  out  was  beyond  its 
power ;  it  therefore  determined  to  carry  it  up  the 
declivity.  For  this  purpose  it  insinuated  its  tail 
under  the  offending  impediment,  and  by  moving  the 
rings  of  its  body,  hoisted  it  gradually  on  its  back; 
thus  loaded,  it  set  off  with  its  burden,  walking 
backwards  up  the  sloping  side  of  the  hole.  Of 
course  every  step  made  the  stone  shake  and  over- 
balance ;  but  it  was  righted  in  a  trice  by  a  due  ad- 
justment of  the  body  of  the  insect,  or  a  proper 
movement  of  the  rings  which  compose  it.  Five  or 
six  times  successively,  the  stone  fell  off  in  spite  of 
all  the  skill  and  patience  of  the  creature,  and  five 
or  six  times,  Sysiphus-like,  it  renewed  its  efforts. 
In  some  instances,  success  attended  his  patient  la- 
bours ;  in  others,  its  efforts  proved  unavailing  ;  but 
rather  than  submit  to  the  inconvenience  of  a  pebble 
which  could  offer  the  means  of  escape  to  its  prey, 
the  insect  chose  to  quit  the  den  and  begin  a  new 
one.  Another,  however,  acting  with  more  sagacity 
simply  drove  the  stone  into  the  sandy  walls  of  the 
den,  and  thus  effectually  abated  the  nuisance  with 
little  trouble. 

All  difficulties  having  been  at  length  surmounted, 
the  pit  is  finished ;  it  is  a  conical  excavation,  rather 
more  than  two  inches  deep,  and  about  three  inches 
in  diameter  at  the  top,  gradually  diminishing  in  its 
dimensions  until  it  becomes  no  more  than  a  point  at 
the  bottom.  It  is  at  this  narrow  part  of  the  den 
that  the  ant-lion  now  takes  its  station ;  and  lest  its 


NATURAL   HISTORY.  [CH'  xm- 

uncouth  and  forbidding'  appearance  should  scare 
away  any  prey  which  might  happen  to  approach  its 
lurking  hole,  it  conceals  its  whole  body  under  a  layer 
of  sand,  except  the  points  of  its  expanded  forceps, 
which  stick  out  above  the  surface.  It  seldom  hap- 
pens that  much  time  elapses  before  some  vagrant 
ant,  unsuspicious  of  danger,  arrives  upon  the  margin 
of  the  den.  Impelled  by  some  fatal  motive,  it  is 
prompted  to  explore  the  depth  below ;  and  bitterly 
is  it  made  to  rue  its  prying  intrusion.  The  treacher- 
ous sand  gives  way  under  its  feet ;  the  struggles 
which  it  makes  to  escape  serve  but  to  accelerate  its 
descent ;  and  it  falls  headlong  into  the  open  forceps 
of  its  destroyer.  The  ant,  however,  sometimes  suc- 
ceeds in  arresting  its  downward  progress  half  way, 
when  it  uses  every  effort  to  scramble  up  the  sloping 
side.  Furnished  with  six  eyes  on  each  side  of  the 
head,  the  ant-lion  is  sufficiently  sharp-sighted  to 
perceive  this  manoeuvre.  Roused  by  the  prospect 
of  losing  the  expected  delicacy,  it  instantly  throws 
off  its  inactivity;  shovels  loads  of  sand  upon  its 
head,  and  vigorously  throws  it  after  the  retreating 
victim.  The  blows  which  the  ant  thus  receives 
from  substances  comparatively  of  great  size,  soon 
bring  it  down  within  the  grasp  of  the  terrible  pincers 
which  are  extended  to  receive  it.  If  one  shower 
should  fail,  another  soon  follows,  and  lucky  indeed 
must  be  the  insect  which  can  effect  its  escape. 

Very  few  species  of  insects,  not  excepting  its  own, 
come  amiss  to  this  voracious  creature.  Reaumur 
cut  the  wings  of  a  bee,  and  threw  it  thus  irritated 
into  the  den  of  an  ant-lion.  The  creature,  seizing 
the  bee  by  the  back,  and  holding  it  suspended  in  the 
air,  disabled  it  from  using  its  sting.  It  made,  how- 
ever, a  terrible  struggle,  but  on  every  motion  the 
ant-lion  dashed  it  forcibly  against  the  sand.  Thus 
beaten  and  wounded,  the  bee  yielded  up  the  contest 
with  its  life,  and  was  sucked  at  leisure  by  its  enemy. 
When  its  prey  has  been  drained  dry,  it  casts  the 


CH.  XIII.]  THE  ANT-LION.  225 

skin  with  a  jerk  far  from  its  cave,  lest  the  relics 
should  embarrass  it  in  its  future  contests,  or  deprive 
it  of  future  visits,  by  bringing  its  place  of  residence 
into  bad  repute.  Any  damage  which  the  den  may 
have  sustained  during  these  struggles  is  carefully 
repaired ;  when  the  ant-lion  resumes  its  station  at 
the  bottom?  and  patiently  awaits  the  approach  of 
more  prey. 

The  ant-lion  will  not  take  a  dead  insect,  however 
recently  killed.  Reaumur  tempted  it  with  fine,  fat 
blue-bottles,  but  these  it  would  not  touch.  Those 
insects,  too,  whose  instincts  teach  them  to  simulate 
death  when  danger  is  near,  escape  the  fangs  of  the 
ant-lion. 

If  it  has  long  missed  its  necessary  supply  of 
game,  it  concludes  its  place  of  ambuscade  to  have 
been  badly  selected,  and  moves  to  another  spot ;  or, 
if  the  hole  has  been  so  long  occupied  that  the  fre- 
quent crumbling  of  the  sides  has  rendered  the  de- 
scent too  easy,  it  is  forsaken.  Its  progress  on  these 
occasions  may  be  seen  in  the  following  figure. 


To  this  species  of  life  the  ant-lion  is  destined  for 
about  two  years ;  after  this  period  it  passes  from  its 
state  of  larva  into  that  of  nymph.  It  then  buries 
itself  entirely  in  the  sand.  With  a  kind  of  viscid 
substance,  which  appears  to  exude  from  the  pores 
of  its  skin,  it  glues  together  a  crust  which  encom- 
passes its  whole  body ;  this  covering  is  round,  and 
about  half  an  inch  in  diameter,  which  affords  the 


226  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  XIII. 

insect  sufficient  space  for  motion :  but  it  is  not  con- 
tent with  the  shelter  of  a  bare  wall,  which  would 
inevitably  chill  it ;  it  therefore  spins  out  of  its  own 
bowels  a  thread,  which  in  fineness  infinitely  sur- 
passes that  of  the  silk-worm.  This  thread  it  fastens 
first  to  one  place,  and  then  extends  it  to  a  second, 
crossing  and  interlacing  it :  by  this  means  it  hangs 
all  its  apartment  with  a  satin  tinged  with  the  colour 
of  pearls,  and  exquisite  both  in  beauty  and  delicacy. 
In  this  work  all  the  propriety  and  convenience  is 
confined  to  the  inside,  for  nothing  appears  without 
but  a  little  sand,  which  confounds  and  incorporates 
the  mansion  with  the  contiguous  earth.  Here,  in  a 
state  of  oblivion  and  tranquillity,  it  remains  secluded 
from  the  world  for  the  space  of  about  two  months, 
when  it  divests  itself  of  its  eyes,  horns,  paws,  and 
skin :  its  spoils  sink  to  the  bottom  of  the  ball  like  a 
heap  of  rags:  all  that  now  remains  is  a  nymph, 
which  has  other  eyes  and  paws ;  other  entrails  and 
wings,  enveloped  in  a  second  skin,  and  a  nutritious 
liquor  which  gradually  strengthens  the  new  animal. 
When  its  new  limbs  have  acquired  their  necessary 
tone  and  activity,  it  tears  away  the  tapestry  of  its 
apartment  and  pierces  through  the  walls ;  for  which 
purpose  it  employs  a  couple  of  teeth  like  those  with 
which  the  grasshopper  is  furnished.  Its  efforts  to 
escape  become  now  more  strenuous;  the  opening 
gradually  enlarges ;  half  the  body  is  first  thrust  out, 
and  at  last  the  whole  emerges.  Its  long  body,  which 
at  this  moment  winds  like  the  volute  of  an  Ionic  ca- 
pital, and  fills  only  a  space  of  about  a  quarter  of  an 
inch,  begins  to  unfold  and  expand  itself,  and  in  an 
instant  stretches  to  the  length  of  an  inch  and  a  quar- 
ter. Its  four  wings,  which  were  contracted  in  little 
folds,  and  whose  dimensions  did  not  exceed  the  sixth 
part  of  an  inch  in  the  film  that  sheathed  them,  begin 
to  expand,  and  in  the  space  of  two  minutes  shoot 
into  a  greater  length  than  the  whole  body.  In  a 
word  the  ravenous  and  malignant  ant-lion  assumes 


CH.  XIII.  J  THE    LION-WORM.  227 

the  form  of  a  large  and  beautiful  fly,  very  closely 
resembling1  the  dragon-fly,  which,  after  it  has  for 
some  time  continued  immoveable  and  apparently 
astonished  at  the  prospect  of  nature,  flutters  its 
wings  and  enjoys  a  liberty  unknown  to  it  in  its 
former  obscure  condition.  And  as  it  has  cast  off 
the  spoils  and  cumbersome  weight  of  its  first  form, 
so  is  it  likewise  divested  of  its  barbarity  and  per- 
nicious inclinations ;  it  comes  forth  an  entirely  new 
creature,  full  of  gayety,  alacrity,  and  vigour,  and 
graced  with  a  noble  and  majestic  air.  It  then  pro- 
ceeds to  deposite  an  egg  in  some  sandy  spot ;  from 
this  egg  an  ant-lion  emerges,  which  in  its  turn  be- 
comes changed  into  a  fly. 


The  lion- worm  (Leptis)  is  a  curious  and  voracious 
little  creature,  having  a  tapering  form;  the  head 
being  more  pointed  than  the  tail.  Its  instincts  are 
very  similar  to  those  of  the  ant-lion ;  for,  like  that 
formidable  insect,  it  makes  a  species  of  cavity  in 
the  loose  earth,  and  there  waits  in  ambuscade  for  its 
prey.  A  portion  of  its  body  lies  concealed  under 
the  sand — the  rest  stretches  across  the  bottom  of  the 
den,  and  appears  so  stiff  and  motionless,  that,  at  first 
sight,  it  might  be  taken  for  a  bit  of  straw,  half  an 
inch  in  length.  If,  however,  any  insect,  in  search 
of  food,  should  happen  to  walk  into  the  cave  of  the 
lion-worm,  the  little  morsel  of  stubble  in  an  instant 
becomes  all  animation — falls  like  a  serpent  on  its 
prey,  and  winding  its  body  in  coils  around  its  victim. 


228  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [CH.  XIV. 

compresses  it  to  death,  and  sucks  out  the  juices  by 
means  of  a  couple  of  hooks  fixed  to  its  head.  When 
a  strong  insect  happens  to  be  thus  captured,  it  might 
fly  away  with  the  lion-worm  if  nature  had  not  fur- 
nished the  latter  with  means  of  fixing  itself  suitable 
to  the  emergency.  It  bends  a  part  of  its  body  into 
the  shape  of  a  hook ;  this  is  then  thrust  under  the 
sand,  and  serves  as  an  anchor  to  hold  the  insect, 
while  the  upper  part  of  the  body  remains  at  liberty 
to  master  and  devour  the  prey.  If  the  prey,  eluding 
its  serpent-like  grasp,  should  begin  to  make  its  way 
up  the  sides  of  the  den,  the  cunning  hunter  resorts 
to  the  very  same  expedient  as  the  ant-lion ;  by  means 
of  its  head,  it  sends  forth  a  shower  of  sand  with 
such  marvellous  agility  and  precision  of  aim,  that  it 
rarely  fails  to  bring  the  battered  game  once  more 
within  the  reach  of  its  formidable  pincers. 

The  leptis  ultimately  turns  into  a  sort  of  fly,  with 
a  long  and  thin  body. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE    SPIDER. 

Its  Spinning-  Apparatus— The  Web—The  Hawk- Spider— The  Garden 
Spider — The  Water-Spider — The  Hunt  ing- Spider — Gossamer-Spider 
— Fen-Spider — Attachment  of  the  Spider  to  its  Young. 

AMONG  the  insect  tribes,  few  seem  to  be  more 
generally  regarded  with  horror  and  disgust  than 
the  whole  family  of  spiders,  and  such  wingless 
insects  as  resemble  them.  Notwithstanding  this, 
there  are  savages  who  eat  them :  Sparrman  says, 
that  the  Bashie  men  consider  them  as  dainties ;  and 
Labillardiere  asserts,  that  the  inhabitants  of  New- 
Caledonia  seek  for  and  devour  large  quantities  of  a 


tH.  XIV.]  THE    SPIDER.  229 

spider  nearly  an  inch  long-,  which  they  roast  over  a 
fire.  Reaumur  relates,  on  the  authority  of  M.  de 
la  Hire,  that  a  young  French  lady  could  never  resist 
the  temptation  of  eating  a  spider,  whenever  she  met 
with  one  in  her  walks.  They  are  said  to  taste  li&e 
nuts,  at  least  this  was  the  opinion  of  the  celebrated 
Maria  Schurrman,  who  not  only  ate  them,  but  justi- 
fied her  taste  by  saying,  that  she  was  born  under 
Scorpio.  Latreille  informs  us,  that  the  astronomer 
Lalaiide  was  equally  fond  of  this  offensive  morsel. 
Man  is  truly  an  omnivorous  animal;  for  there  is 
nothing  which  is  disgusting  to  one  nation,  that  is 
not  the  choice  food  of  another.  Flesh,  fish,  fowl, 
insects,  even  the  gigantic  centipedes-  of  Brazil, 
many  of  them  a  foot  and  a  half  long,  and  half  an 
inch  broad,  were  seen  by  Humboldt  to3  be  dragged 
out  of  their  holes,  and  crunched  alive  by  the  chil- 
dren. Serpents  of  all  sorts  have  been  consumer!  as 
food;  and  the  host  of  the  celebrated  inn  at  Terra- 
cina  frequently  accosts  his  guests,  by  politely  re- 
questing to  know,  whether  they  prefer  the  "  eel  of 
the  hedge  or  the  eel  of  the  ditch."  To  evince  their 
attachment  to  their  favourite  pursuit,  most  natural- 
ists seem  to  consider  it  indispensable  to  taste  and 
recommend  some  insect  or  other.  Darwin  assures 
us,  that  the  caterpillar  of  the  hawk-moth  is  delicious ; 
Kirby  and  Spence  think  the  ant  good  eating,  and 
push  their  entomological  zeal  so  far  as  to  distinguish 
between  the  flavour  of  the  abdomen  and  the  thorax ; 
and  Reaumur  recommends  the  caterpillar  of  the 
plusia  gamma  as  a  delicate  dish. 

And  if  the  evidence  of  a  poet  may  be  taken  in  this 
matter,  the  fairies  are  as  fond  of  these  dainties  as 
the  most  enthusiastic  entomologists:  as  will  appear 
from  the  following  quaint  and  fanciful  quotation  :— 

"A  little  mushroom  table  spread, 
After  short  prayers  they  set  on  bread, 
A  moon-parched  grain  of  purest  wheat, 
With  some  small  glittering  grit,  to  eat 


230  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [CH.  XIV. 

His  choicest  bits  with ;  then  in  a  trice 

They  make  a  feast  less  great  than  nice, 

But  all  this  while  his  eye  is  served, 

We  must  not  think  his  ear  was  starved : 

But  that  there  was  in  place  to  stir 

His  spleen  the  chirring  grasshopper, 

The  merry  cricket,  puling  fly, 

The  piping  gnat,  for  minstrelsy. 

And  now  we  must  imagine  first 

The  elves  present  to  quench  his  thirst 

A  pure  seed  pearl  of  infant  dew, 

Brought  and  besweetened  in  a  blue 

And  pregnant  violet.    Then  forthwith 

He  ventures  boldly  on  the  pith 

Of  sugared  rush,  and  eats  the  sag 

And  well  bestrutted  bee's  sweet  bag. 

Gladding  his  palate  with  a  store 

Of  emmets'  eggs — what  could  he  more  ? 

But  beards  of  mice,  a  newt's  stew'd  thigh, 

A  bloated  earwig  and  a  fly : 

With  the  red-capped  worm  that 's  shut 

Within  the  concave  of  a  nut, 

Brown  as  his  tooth ;  a  little  moth, 

Late  fattened  in  a  piece  of  cloth ; 

The  unctuous  dewlaps  of  a  snail ; 

The  broke  heart  of  a  nightingale 

O'ercome  in  music."* 


Spiders  have  oeen  divided  into  various  classes, 
and  although  they  have  something  in  common,  yet 
each  has  likewise  something  which  distinguishes  it 
from  the  rest.  The  above  wood-cut  represents  the 

*  Hcrrick's  Hesperides. 


CH.  XIV.]  THE   SPIDER.  231 

monstrous  bird-spider  (mygale  avicularia)  of  South 
America ;  it  is  at  least  two  inches  long,  and  reputed 
(although  on  authority  which  has  been  denied)  to 
hunt  for  and  devour  birds.  In  general  outline  and 
shape  they  all  present  a  strong  family  likeness. 
The  body  is  divided  into  two  parts :  the  fore-part, 
containing  the  head  and  breast,  is  separated  from 
the  hind-part  by  a  ligature,  or  very  slender  thread. 
The  lore-part,  together  with  the  feet,  which  are  in- 
serted into  the  breast,  is  covered  with  very  strong 
scales.  The  hind-part  is  clothed  in  a  very  fine  and 
supple  skin,  which  is  covered  with  hair.  In  different 
parts  of  the  head,  they  have  several  fine  eyes — gene- 
rally eight,  and  sometimes  no  more  than  six ;  two 
in  the  fore-part,  two  in  the  hind-part,  and  the  rest 
in  the  sides.  They  are  all  without  eyelids,  and  are 
covered  with  a  hard,  polished,  and  transparent  crust. 
As  these  eyes  are  immoveable,  they  have  been  mul- 
tiplied, to  convey  to  them,  on  all  sides,  intimations 
of  whatever  it  concerns  them  to  know.  The  fore- 
part of  the  head  is  furnished  with  two  stings,  or 
rather  branches,  shagged  or  indented  with  strong 
points  like  a  couple  of  saws,  and  ending  in  a  nail 
formed  like  the  claw  of  a  cat.  Near  the  point  of 
the  nail  is  a  small  aperture  through  which  their 
poison  is  ejected.  These  arms  or  branches  are  ex- 
tremely formidable  to  their  enemies :  they  open  and 
extend  at  pleasure.  When  no  longer  wanted  for 
use,  the  nails  are  each  of  them  bent  down  upon  its 
branch,  like  a  pruning-knife  clasped  upon  its  handle. 
They  are  all  likewise  furnished  with  eight  legs,  like 
those  of  a  crab ;  and  at  the  extremity  of  each  are 
fixed  three  crooked  and  moveable  claws :  that  is  to 
say,  a  small  one  placed  in  the  side,  like  a  spur,  by 
the  assistance  of  which  they  fasten  themselves  to 
their  thread — and  two  others  of  a  larger  size.  The 
internal  curve  of  these  is  indented,  and  they  enable 
the  insects  to  fix  themselves  wherever  they  please, 
and  to  slide  either  obliquely  or  downwards,  by 
grasping  whatever  comes  in  their  way. 


232  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [CH.  XIV. 


But,  besides  these  eight  legs,  spiders  have  two 
others  inserted  in  the  fore-part  of  their  body,  and 
which  may  be  called  their  arms,  since  they  do  not 
use  them  for  transferring  themselves  from  one  place 
to  another,  but  only  for  holding  and  turning  their 
prey.  But  although  thus  formidably  equipped  with 
weapons  of  attack,  the  spider  would  still  be  unsuc- 
cessful in  providing  for  its  wants,  if  not  furnished 
with  the  means  of  constructing  an  ambuscade  to 
surprise  its  victim.  The  spider  has  no  wings  to 
assist  in  the  pursuit,  while  its  prey  is  furnished  with 
those  organs  as  the  means  of  escape.  This  would 
prove  a  fatal  disadvantage,  if  the  insect  had  not  been 
furnished  with  a  stock  of  material,  which  it  can 
spin  into  a  thread,  and  employ  in  constructing  a  web 
or  snare,  which  it  spreads  in  the  open  air  to  inter- 
cept the  prey  which  is  continually  passing.  Instinct 
informs  the  spider  when  the  proper  season  has  ar- 
rived for  weaving  this  snare:  which  is  invariably 
begun  when  its  prey  first  receives  its  birth.  When 
the  web  has  been  completed,  the  insect  retires  into 
obscurity  behind  its  net,  where  it  patiently  awaits 
for  a  victim,  to  which  it  has  rendered  itself  invisible. 

The  manner  of  constructing  this  web  is  extremely 
artful  and  ingenious.  All  spiders  are  furnished,  at 
the  extremity  of  their  belly,  with  four  or  six  teat- 
like  protuberances  or  spinners.  Each  of  these  pro- 
tuberances is  furnished  with  a  multitude  of  tubes,  so 
numerous  and  so  exquisitely  fine,  that,  according  to 
Reaumur,  a  space  not  much  bigger  than  the  pointed 
end  of  a  pin  is  furnished  with  a  thousand  of  them. 
Hence,  from  each  spinner  proceeds  a  compound 
thread.  At  the  distance  of  about  one-tenth  of  an 
inch  from  the  point  of  the  spinners  these  threads 
again  unite,  and  form  the  thread  which  we  see,  and 
which  the  spider  makes  use  of  in  forming  its  web. 
Thus,  a  spider's  thread,  even  when  so  fine  as  almost 
to  elude  our  senses,  is  not  a  single  line,  but  a  rope 
composed  of  at  least  four  thousand  strands.  Of 


CH.  XIV.]  THE    SPIDER.  23 

such  tenuity,  although  placed  beyond  all  doubt  by 
Leuwenhoek's  microscopical  observations,  our  ima- 
gination is  too  faint  to  form  even  a  conception :  our 
faculties  are  overwhelmed  by  a  consciousness  of 
the  imperfection  of  our  senses,  when  used  for  the 
purpose  of  scrutinizing  the  works  of  nature.  An 
experiment  may  be  easily  made  with  one  of  our 
large  field-spiders,  which  will  convince  the  observer 
that  this  calculation,  although  very  wonderful,  is 
still  accurate.  If  the  abdomen  of  one  of  these 
spiders  be  pressed  against  a  leaf,  the  same  prelimi- 
nary step  which  the  spider  adopts  in  spinning,  and 
drawn  gradually  to  a  small  distance,  it  will  be  in- 
stantly perceived  that  the  proper  thread  of  the  in- 
sect is  formed  of  four  smaller  threads,  and  these 
again  of  threads  so  fine  and  numerous,  that  the  num- 
ber issuing  from  each  spinner  cannot  be  estimated 
under  a  thousand.  The  Author  of  nature  has  also 
conferred  upon  the  spider  the  power  of  closing  the 
orifices  of  the  spinners  at  its  pleasure.  This  ena- 
bles the  insect,  when  dropping  from  a  height  by  its 
line,  to  arrest  its  descent  at  any  point  of  its  down- 
ward progress,  and  remain  suspended  in  mid-air. 

The  situations  which  spiders  select  for  the  con- 
struction of  their  nets  are  extremely  various.  Some 
prefer  the  open  air,  and  place  them  in  a  horizontal, 
a  vertical,  or  oblique  direction,  among  shrubs  or 
plants  much  resorted  to  by  flies  and  other  small  in- 
sects ;  others  spread  their  toils  in  the  corners  of 
windows  and  rooms  where  prey  always  abounds ; 
while  many  construct  their  nets  in  stables  and  de- 
serted dwellings,  which,  at  first  sight,  hold  out  no 
great  promise  of  plunder.  ^ 

When  a  house-spider  intends  to  begin  a  web,  it 
selects  some  recess,  as  the  corner  of  a  chamber  or 
piece  of  furniture,  into  which  it  may  retreat  under  its 
web,  and  secure  to  itself,  either  upwards  or  down- 
wards, a  passage  to  escape  from  any  danger  with 
which  it  may  be  threatened.  It  then  presses  its 
U2 


234  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [pH.  XIV. 

spinners  against  one  of  the  sides,  and  glues  to  it 
one  end  of  the  thread.  The  insect  proceeds  from 
one  side,  as  far  as  the  place  to  which  it  intends  to 
extend  its  web,  while  the  thread  lengthens  in  the  rear. 
The  thread  is  fastened  to  one  of  the  spurs  or  claws 
with  which  the  spider's  feet  are  furnished,  lest  it 
should  come  in  contact  with  the  wall  while  it  is  in- 
tended that  it  should  traverse  the  air.  When  the 
insect  has  reached  the  point  on  the  opposite  side  to 
which  it  purposes  to  continue  the  web,  it  there 
fastens  this  first  thread  by  means  of  glue;  it  then 
pulls  the  thread,  and  renders  it  tight.  Close  by  this 
thread  another  is  fixed,  which  the  insect  carries  for- 
ward by  tunning  along  the  first,  like  a  tumbler  on 
his  rope.  The  second  thread  is  glued  on  one  side 
of  the  point  where  the  work  was  begun.  The  first 
two  threads  are  used  like  a  scaffold  to  assist  in  build- 
ing all  the  rest.  All  the  threads  are  stretched  and 
fastened,  one  after  another,  writh  equal-  art  and  in- 
dustry, and  the  whole  is  executed  with  wonderful 
expedition. 

Those  threads  Which  are  destined  to  form  the 
outer  margin  or  selvage  of  the  web  require  addi- 
tional strength;  and  for  this  purpose  they  are  tripled 
or  quadrupled  by  a  repetition  of  the  operation  just 
described.  From  these  marginal  threads  others  are 
spun  in  various  directions ;  the  interstices  are  filled 
up  by  threads  spun  by  the  spider  as  it  runs  from  one 
to  the  other,  until  the  whole,  when  finished,  assumes 
the  gauze-like  texture  which  excites  our  admiration. 

These  webs  present  merely  a  horizontal  surface ; 
but  to  those  which  are  formed  in  out-houses  or  among 
bushes  in  Jjjie  open  air,  a  very  ingenious  appendage 
is  added. .  From  the  edges  and  surface  of  the  main 
web  the  spider  carries  up  a  number  of  single  threads, 
often  to  the  height  of  many  feet,  meeting  and  cross- 
ing each  other  in  various  places.  In  their  arrange- 
ment, these  lines  are  not  unlike  the  tackling  of  a 
ship ;  and  in  their  flight  across  them,  the  flies  become 


CH.  XIV.]  THE  SPIDER.  235 

inevitably  entangled.  Their  efforts  to  get  away 
rarely  fail  to  precipitate  them  into  the  net  spread 
below  for  their  reception ;  and  whenever  this  takes 
place,  their  doom  is  fixed. 

But  the  ambuscade  is  still  incomplete.  The  spider 
seems  to  be  well  aware  that  its  grim  visage,  if  not 
concealed,  would  scare  away  the  game  for  which  it 
lies  in  wait.  It  therefore  constructs  a  small  silken 
apartment  under  the  net,  where  it  takes  its  station, 
unseen  and  unsuspected.  "  In  this  corner,"  says 
Philemon  Holland,  in  his  quaint  translation  of  Pliny, 
"  with  what  subtiltie  doth  she  retire,  making  sem- 
blance as  though  she  meant  nothing  less  than  that 
she  doth,  and  as  if  she  went  about  some  other  busi- 
ness !  Nay,  how  close  lieth  she,  that  it  is  impossi- 
ble to  see  whether  any  one  be  within  or  no !"  But 
how  does  the  spider,  thus  removed  from  the  sight 
of  its  toils,  discover  when  its  prey  has  been  en- 
trapped ?  For  this  purpose,  the  following  ingenious 
contrivance  is  adopted :  it  spins  and  draws  several 
threads  from  the  edge  of  the  net  to  that  of  the  hole 
in  which  it  conceals  itself.  When  a  fly  falls  into 
the  net,  these  threads  by  their  vibrations  give  the 
spider  intimation  of  the  event :  they  also  serve  as  a 
bridge  over  which  it  instantly  passes  to  secure  the 
captured  prey. 

Goldsmith  has  given  so  lively  an  account  of  some 
of  the  habits  of  the  house-spider,  that  it  deserves  to 
be  transcribed. 

"  1  perceived,  about  four  years  ago,  a  large  spider 
in  one  corner  of  my  room  making  its  web;  and, 
though  the  maid  frequently  levelled  her  fatal  broom 
against  the  labours  of  the  little  animal,  I  had  the 
good  fortune  then  to  prevent  its  destruction ;  and,  I 
may  say,  it  more  than  paid  me  by  the  entertain- 
ment it  afforded. 

"  In  three  days  the  web  was  with  incredible  dili- 
gence completed :  nor  could  I  avoid  thinking  that  the 
insect  exulted  in  its  new  abode.  It  frequently  tra- 


236  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  XIV. 

versed  it  round,  examined  the  strength  of  every  part  of 
it,  retired  into  its  hole,  and  came  out  very  frequently. 
The  first  enemy,  however,  it  had  to  encounter  was 
another  and  a  much  larger  spider,  which,  having  no 
web  of  its  own,  and  having  probably  exhausted  all 
its  stock  in  former  labours  of  this  kind,  came  to  in- 
vade the  property  of  its  neighbour.  Soon  then  a 
terrible  encounter  ensued,  in  which  the  invader 
seemed  to  have  the  victory,  and  the  laborious  spider 
was  obliged  to  take  refuge  in  its  hole.  Upon  this  I 
perceived  the  victor  using  every  art  to  draw  the  enemy 
from  its  strong-hold.  He  seemed  to  go  off,  but 
quickly  returned ;  but  when  he  found  all  arts  vain,  he 
began  to  demolish  the  new  web  without  mercy. 
This  brought  on  another  battle ;  and  contrary  to  my 
expectations,  the  laborious  spider  became  conqueror, 
and  fairly  killed  its  antagonist. 

"  Now  then  in  peaceable  possession  of  what  justly 
was  its  own,  it  waited  three  days  repairing  the 
breaches  of  its  web,  and  taking,  as  I  could  perceive, 
no  sustenance.  At  last  a  large  bluebottle  fell  into 
the  snare,  and  struggled  hard  to  get  loose.  The 
spider  gave  it  leave  to  entangle  itself  as  much  as 
possible,  but  it  seemed  to  be  too  strong  for  its  cob- 
web. It  sallied  out,  and  stopped  the  motion  of  the 
fly's  wings  by  quickly  weaving  around  them  a  web ; 
and,  thus  hampered,  it  seized  and  dragged  it  into  its 
hole. 

"  I  once  put  a  wasp  into  the  net ;  but  when  the 
spider  came  out  to  seize  it,  as  usual,  upon  perceiving 
what  kind  of  an  enemy  it  had  to  deal  with,  it  in- 
stantly broke  all  the  bands  that  held  it  fast,  and  con- 
tributed all  that  lay  in  its  power  to  disengage  so 
formidable  an  antagonist.  When  the  wasp  was  at 
liberty,  I  expected  that  the  spider  would  set  about 
repairing  the  breaches  which  were  made  in  its  net ; 
but  these  it  seems  were  irreparable,  wherefore  the 
web  was  now  entirely  forsaken,  and  a  new  one  be- 
gun, which  was  completed  in  the  usual  time. 


CH.  XIV.]  THE  SPIDER.  237 

"  I  had  now  a  mind  to  try  how  many  cobwebs  a 
single  spider  could  furnish,  wherefore  I  destroyed 
this,  and  the  insect  set  about  another.  When  I  de- 
stroyed the  other  also,  its  whole  stock  seemed  en- 
tirely exhausted,  and  it  could  spin  no  more.  The 
arts  it  made  use  of  to  support  itself,  now  deprived 
of  its  great  means  of  subsistence,  were  indeed  sur- 
prising-; I  have  seen  it  roll  up  its  leg's  like  a  ball, 
and  lie  motionless  for  hours  together,  but  cautiously 
watching  all  the  time ;  when  a  fly  happened  to  ap- 
proach sufficiently  near,  it  would  dart  out  all  at  once, 
and  often  seize  its  prey. 

"  Of  this  life,  however,  it  soon  began  to  grow 
weary,  and  resolved  to  invade  the  possession  of  some 
other  spider,  since  it  could  not  make  a  web  of  its 
own.  It  formed  an  attack  upon  a  neighbouring  for- 
tification with  great  vigour,  and  at  first  was  as 
vigorously  repulsed.  Not  daunted,  however,  with 
one  defeat,  in  this  manner  it  continued  to  lay  siege 
to  another's  web  for  three  days,  and  at  length  having 
killed  the  defendant,  actually  took  possession. 

"The  insect  I  am  now  describing  lived  three 
years;  every  year  it  changed  its  skin,  and  got  a  new 
set  of  legs.  I  have  sometimes  plucked  off  a  limb, 
which  grew  again  in  two  or  three  days.  At  first  it 
dreaded  my  approach  to  its  web,  but  at  last  it  became 
so  familiar  as  to  take  a  fly  out  of  my  hand,  and  on 
my  touching  any  part  of  the  web,  would  immediately 
leave  its  hole,  prepared  either  for  defence  or  attack." 

But  the  ingenuity  of  the  house-spider,  although 
very  great,  is  still  inferior  to  that  of  the  garden-spi- 
der. "  As  the  net,"  says  Kirby,  in  his  admirable 
account  of  the  proceedings  of  this  spider,"  is  usually 
fixed  in  a  perpendicular  or  somewhat  oblique  direc- 
tion, in  an  opening  between  the  leaves  of  some  shrub 
or  plant,  it  is  obvious  that  round  its  whole  extent 
will  be  required  lines  to  which  can  be  attached  those 
ends  of  the  radii  that  are  farthest  from  the  centre. 
Accordingly,  the  construction  of  these  exterior  lines 


238  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [cH.  XIV. 

is  the  spider's  first  operation.  She  seems  careless 
about  the  shape  of  the  area  which  they  enclose,  well 
aware  that  she  can  as  readily  inscribe  a  circle  in  a 
triangle  as  in  a  square,  and  in  this  respect  she  is 
guided  by  the  distance  or  proximity  of  the  points  to 
which  she  can  attach  them.  She  spares  no  pains, 
however,  to  strengthen  and  keep  them  in  a  proper 
degree  of  tension.  With  the  former  view  she  com- 
poses each  line  of  five  or  six  or  even  more  threads 
glued  together;  and  with  the  latter  she  fixes  to  them 
from  different  points  a  numerous  and  intricate  appa- 
ratus of  smaller  threads.  Having  thus  completed  the 
foundations  of  her  snare,  she  proceeds  to  fill  up  the 
outline.  Attaching  a  thread  to  one  of  the  main  lines, 
she  walks  along  it,  guiding  it  with  one  of  her  hind- 
feet  that  it  may  not  touch  in  any  part  and  be  pre- 
maturely glued,"  and  crosses  over  to  the  opposite 
side,  where,  by  applying  her  spinners,  she  firmly  fixes 
it.  To  the  middle  of  this  diagonal  thread,  which  is 
to  form  the  centre  of  her  net,  she  fixes  a  second, 
which  in  like  manner  she  conveys  and  fastens  to 
another  part  of  the  lines  encircling  the  area.  Her 
work  now  proceeds  rapidly.  During  the  prelimi- 
nary operations  she  sometimes  rests,  as  though  her 
plan  required  meditation.  But  no  sooner  are  the 
marginal  lines  of  her  net  firmly  stretched,  and  two 
or  three  radii  spun  from  its  centre,  than  she  conti- 
nues her  labour  so  quickly  and  unremittingly  that 
the  eye  can  scarcely  follow  her  progress.  The  radii, 
to  the  number  of  about  twenty,  giving  the  net  the 
appearance  of  a  wheel,  are  speedily  finished.  She 
then  proceeds  to  the  centre,  quickly  turns  herself 
round,  and  pulls  each  thread  with  her  feet  to  ascer- 
tain its  strength,  breaking  any  one  that  seems  defect- 
ive, and  replacing  it  by  another.  Next,  she  glues 
immediately  round  the  centre  five  or  six  small  con- 
centric circles,  distant  about  half  a  line  from  each 
other,  and  then  four  or  five  larger  ones,  each  sepa- 
rated by  a  space  of  half  an  inch  or  more.  These 


CH.  XIV.]  THE  SPIDER.  239 

last  serve  as  a  sort  of  temporary  scaffolding  to  walk 
over,  and  to  keep  the  radii  properly  stretched  while 
she  glues  to  them  the  concentric  circles  that  are  to 
remain,  which  she  now  proceeds  to  construct. 
Placing  herself  at  the  circumference,  and  fastening 
her  thread  to  the  end  of  one  of  the  radii,  she  walks 
up  that  one,  towards  the  centre,,  to  such  a  distance 
as  to  draw  the  thread  from  her  body  of  a  sufficient 
length  to  reach  to  the  next.  Then  stepping  across 
and  conducting  the  thread  with  one  of  her  hind-feet 
she  glues  it  with  her  spinners  to  the  point  in  the  ad 
joining  radius  to  which  it  is  to  be  fixed.  This  pro- 
cess she  repeats  until  she  has  filled  up  nearly  the 
whole  space  from  the  circumference  to  the  centre 
with  concentric  circles  distant  from  each  other  about 
two  lines.  She  always,  however,  leaves  a  vacant 
interval  around  the  smallest  first  spun  circles  that 
are  nearest  to  the  centre,  but  for  what  end  I  am 
unable  to  conjecture.  Lastly,  she  runs  to  the  cen- 
tre, and  bites  away  the  small  cotton-like  tuft  that 
united  all  the  radii,  which,  being  now  held  together 
by  the  circular  threads,  have  thus  probably  their 
elasticity  increased;  and  in  the  circular  opening 
resulting  from  this  procedure  she  takes  her  station, 
and  watches  for  her  prey." 

The  manoeuvres  of  a  spider  which  wants  to 
escape  from  any  object  surrounded  by  water,  are 
extremely  interesting.  In  his  treatise  on  the  Apple 
and  Pear,  Mr.  Knight  states,  that  if  a  spider  be  placed 
upon  an  upright  stick,  having  its  bottom  immersed 
in  water,  it  will,  after  trying  in  vain  all  other  modes 
of  escape,  dart  out  numerous  fine  threads,  so  light 
as  to  float  in  the  air,  some  one  of  which,  attach- 
ing- itself  to  a  neighbouring  object,  furnishes  a 
bridge  for  its  escape.  An  experiment,  made  by 
Kirby,  confirms  the  truth  of  this  statement.  "  I 
placed,"  says  he, "  the  large  field-spider  upon  a  stick, 
about  a  foot  long,  set  upright  in  a  vessel  containing 
water.  After  fastening  its  thread  (as  all  spiders  do 


240  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [cH.  XIV. 

before  they  move)  at  the  tcp  of  the  stick,  it  crept 
down  the  side  until  it  felt  the  water  with  its  fore- 
feet, which  seem  to  serve  as  antennae ;  it  then  im- 
mediately swung-  itself  from  the  stick  (which  was 
slightly  bent),  and  climbed  up  by  the  thread  to  the 
top.  This  it  repeated  perhaps  a  score  of  times, 
sometimes  creeping  down  a  different  jfart  of  the 
stick,  but  more  frequently  down  the  very  side  it  had 
so  often  traversed  in  vain.  At  length,  it  let  itself 
drop  from  the  top  of  the  stick,  not  by  a  single  thread, 
but  by  too,  each  distant  from  the  other  about  the 
twelfth  of  an  inch,  guided  as  usual  by  one  of  its 
hind-feet;  one  of  the  threads  being  apparently 
smaller  than  the  other.  When  it  had  suffered  itself 
to  descend  nearly  to  the  surface  of  the  water,  it 
stopped  short,  and,  by  some  means  which  I  could 
not  distinctly  see,  broke  off,  close  to  the  spinners, 
the  smallest  thread,  which;  still  adhering  by  the  end 
to  the  top  of  the  stick,  floated  in  the  air,  and  was  so 
light  as  to  be  carried  about  by  the  slightest  breath." 
Shortly  afterward  he  found  one  of  these  threads 
extending  from  the  top  of  the  stick  to  a  cabinet, 
seven  or  eight  inches  distant ;  the  prisoner  had  then 
made  its  escape,  using  this  thread  doubtless  as  a 
bridge. 

The  spiders  which  form  nets  of  concentric  circles, 
differ  from  the  house-spider  with  respect  to  the 
situation  in  which  they  remain,  while  watching  for 
their  prey.  Instead  of  lying  concealed  under  the  net, 
they  place  themselves  in  its  centre,  with  their  head 
downwards,  and  retire  to  a  little  apartment  formed 
under  some  leaf,  near  one  side  of  the  net,  only  when 
they  happen  to  be  alarmed  by  the  approach  of  dan- 
ger, or  driven  to  seek  for  shelter  by  stress  of  wea- 
ther. *  This  apartment  is  also  used  as  a  slaughter- 
house; for  the  moment  an  ill-starred  fly,  or  other 
insect,  comes  in  contact  with  the  net,  the  spider 
springs  upon  it  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning ;  and 
if  the  captured  insect  be  of  small  size  only,  the 


CH.  XIV.]  THE    SPIDER.  241 

spider  conveys  it  at  once  to  the  place  of  slaughter ; 
and,  having  at  its  leisure  sucked  all  its  juice,  throws 
out  the  carcass.  If  the  insect,  being  somewhat 
larger  in  size,  should  struggle  to  escape,  the  spider, 
with  surprising  address  and  agility,  envelopes  its 
prey  in  a  mesh  of  threads  passed  round  its  body  in 
various  directions ;  both  its  wings  and  legs  being  by 
these  means  effectually  secured,  it  is  then  conveyed 
to  the  den,  and  devoured.  Sometimes  a  bee,  or 
large  fly,  too  powerful  to  be  mastered  by  the  spider, 
happens  to  get  entangled  in  its  toils ;  in  this  case, 
the  wary  animal,  conscious  of  its  incapacity  to  con- 
tend against  such  fearful  odds,  makes  no  attempt 
either  to  seize  or  embarrass  the  intruder:  on  the 
contrary,  it  assists  the  entangled  captive  in  its  efforts 
to  free  itself,  and  often  goes  so  far  as  to  break  off 
that  part  of  the  net  from  which  it  may  be  suspended ; 
apparently  content  to  get  rid  of  so  unwelcome  and 
unwieldy  a  customer  at  any  sacrifice. 

In  the  fen  ditches  of  Norfolk,  a  large  spider  has 
been  found,  which  actually  forms  a  raft  for  the  pur- 
pose of  obtaining  its  prey  with  more  facility.  It 
first  constructs  a  ball  of  weeds  about  three  inches 
in  diameter.  Taking  its  station  upon  this  floating 
island,  it  glides  along  upon  the  surface  of  the  water; 
the  moment  it  sees  a  drowning  insect,  it  pounces 
upon  it,  not,  as  it  may  be  well  imagined,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  aiding  its  escape,  but  of  hastening  its 
destruction.  The  body  thus  obtained  is  then  con- 
veyed upon  the  floating  raft,  where  it  is  devoured  at 
leisure. 

The  spider  has  many  enemies ;  and  hence  its 
web  is  always  in  danger  of  being  deranged  and 
damaged ;  to  meet  this  inconvenience,  nature  has 
furnished  the  insect  with  a  magazine  of  materials 
for  occasional  repairs,  and  which,  although  fre- 
quently exhausted,  still  continues  to  be  replenished; 
this  reservoir,  however,  is  drained  in  time.  When 
spiders  grow  old,  their  supply  of  gum  is  dried  up ; 
I.— X 


242  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [cH.  XIV. 

but  even  when  this  calamity  happens,  the  cunning 
creature  is  not  altogether  destitute  oi  resources 
which  avail  it  for  some  time  longer.  A  crafty  old 
spider,  having  no  longer  the  means  of  securing  a 
subsistence,  seeks  out  a  young  one,  to  which  it 
communicates  its  wants  and  necessities ;  on  which 
the  other,  either  out  of  respect  for  old  age,  or  from 
a  dread  of  old  pincers,  resigns  its  place,  and  spins 
a  new  web  in  another  situation.  But  if  the  old 
spider  can  find  none  of  its  species  which  will,  either 
from  love  or  fear,  resign  its  net,  it  must  then  perish 
for  want  of  subsistence. 

A  species  of  spider  (My gale  cementaria),  inhabit* 
ing  the  south  of  Europe,  constructs  a  cylindrical 
cavity  more  than  two  feet  long,  in  some  sloping 
bank,  calculated  to  let  the  water  run  off;  the  inside 
is  lined  with  a  web  of  fine  silk*  But  in  addition  to 
the  sagacity  of  choosing  a  steep  bank  and  the  luxury 
of  furnishing  its  retreat  with  silk,  this  spider  has  the 
power  of  constructing  a  regular  door :  for  this  pur- 
pose it  joins  and  cements  layers  of  clay  or  chalk 
with  its  glutinous  secretions,  and  thus  contrives  to 
make  a  door  exactly  circular,  and  so  nicely  fitting 
into  the  aperture  of  the  cell,  as  to  prevent  its  being 
distinguished  by  the  casual  observer  from  the  sur- 
rounding earth.  But  the  most  marvellous  circum- 
stance yet  remains  to  be  told — the  sagacious  crea- 
ture positively  fabricates  a  hinge  of  silk,  which  it 
invariably  fixes  to  the  highest  side  of  the  aperture, 
so  that  it  can  very  easily  be  pushed  open  from 
within  by  the  insect,  and  shuts  by  its  own  weight. 
Thus  banicadoed,  the  gallery  furnishes  a  secure 
habitation  for  the  male  and  female,  with  twenty  or 
thirty  of  their  young.  No  noise  however  loud,  no 
thumping  however  violent,  will  bring  the  cunning 
inhabitant  out  of  its  cell ;  but  if  the  least  attempt 
be  made  to  force  the  trap-door,  a  curious  scene 
takes  place — the  spider  immediately  runs  to  it,  and 
fixing  some  of  its  legs  to  the  silk  which  lines  the 


CH.    XIV.]  THE    SPIDER.  243 

door,  and  the  rest  to  the  walls  of  the  gallery,  it 
pulls  with  all  its  might  against  the  intruder.  Ob- 
servers have  convinced  themselves  of  the  fact  by 
lifting  up  the  door  with  a  pin,  when  they  have  felt 
the  counter  tugs  of  the  spider  endeavouring  to  shut 
it.  As  soon  as  the  creature  is  convinced  that  far- 
ther efforts  are  useless,  it  relinquishes  the  contest, 
and  retires  to  the  bottom  of  the  gallery.  All 
attempts  to  observe  the  manners  of  this  creature  in 
captivity  have  proved  fruitless,  as  it  soon  perished. 
These  spiders  prowl  about  at  night,  and  having 
secured  their  prey,  drag  it  within  their  den,  and  con- 
sume it  at  their  leisure. 

The  water-spider  (Aranea  aquatica)  is  another 
Avhich  spins  no  web  to  catch  its  prey ;  but,  never- 
theless, offers  one  of  the  most  singular  objects  of 
contemplation.  If  we  possessed  no  other  evidence 
that  the  \vorld  had  been  planned  and  created  by  an 
Intelligent  Being,  the  habits,  proceedings,  and  in- 
stincts of  this  little  creature  would  be  alone  suffi- 
cient to  prove  the  fact.  As  soon  as  it  has  caught 
its  prey  on  the  shore,  it  dives  to  the  bottom  of  the 
waters,  and  there  devours  its  booty.  It  is,  therefore, 
an  amphibious  animal;  although  it  appears  more 
fitted  to  live  in  contact  with  the  atmosphere  than 
with  the  water.  The  diving-bell  is  a  modern  inven- 
tion ;  and  few  facts  excite  our  wonder  more  than 
the  possibility  of  a  man's  being  enabled  to  live  and 
move  at  the  bottom  of  the  ocean.  This  triumph  of 
reason  over  the  unfriendly  element,  however,  was 
anticipated  by  an  insect, — the  spider  in  question. 

This  creature  spins  some  loose  threads  which  it 
attaches  to  the  leaves  of  aquatic  plants;  it  then 
varnishes  them  with  a  glutinous  secretion,  which 
resembles  liquid  glass,  and  is  so  elastic  as  to  admit 
of  considerable  distention  and  contraction ;  it  next 
lays  a  coating  of  this  same  substance  over  its  own 
body,  and  underneath  this  coating  introduces  a 
bubble  of  air.  Naturalists  conjecture  that  it  has  the 


244  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [cH.  XIV. 

power  of  drawing  this  air  in  at  the  anus,  from  the 
atmosphere  at  the  surface  of  the  pool,  but  the  pre- 
cise mode  in  which  it  is  separated  from  the  body  of 
the  atmosphere,  and  introduced  under  the  pellicle 
covering  the  insect's  body,  has  not  been  clearly  as- 
certained. Thus  clothed,  and  shining1  like  a  ball  of 
quicksilver,  it  darts  through  the  waters,  to  the  spot 
in  which  it  had  fixed  its  habitation,  and  disengaging 
the  bubble  from  under  the  pellicle,  it  dexterously 
introduces  it  into  a  web  formed  at  the  bottom. 
After  repeatedly  moving  from  the  top  to  the  bottom 
of  the  water,  and  at  each  journey  filling  its  habita- 
tion with  a  fresh  bubble  of  air,  at  length  the  lighter 
completely  expels  the  heavier  fluid,  and  the  insect 
takes  possession  of  an  aerial  habitation,  commodious 
and  dry,  finished  in  the  very  midst  of  the  waters. 
It  is  about  the  size  and  shape  of  half  a  pigeon's  egg. 
From  this  curious  chamber  the  spider  hunts,  search- 
ing sometimes  the  waters,  and  sometimes  the  land 
for  its  prey,  which,  when  obtained,  is  transported  to 
this  sub-aquatic  mansion,  and  devoured  at  leisure. 
The  male  as  well  as  the  female  exhibits  the  same  in- 
stincts. Early  in  the  spring,  the  former  seeks  the 
mansion  of  the  latter,  and  having  enlarged  it  by  the 
introduction  of  a  little  more  air,  takes  up  its  abode 
with  its  mate.  About  the  middle  of  April,  the  eggs 
are  laid,  and,  packed  up  in  a  silken  cocoon  in  a  cor- 
ner of  their  house,  are  watched  with  incessant  care 
by  the  female. 

In  modern  times,  much  interest  has  been  excited 
by  the  elevation  of  bodies  in  the  air  by  means  of  a 
balloon.  The  discovery  consisted  in  finding  out  a 
manageable  substance  which  was,  bulk  for  bulk, 
lighter  than  air ;  and  the  application  of  the  discovery 
was  to  make  a  body  composed  of  this  substance 
bear  up,  along  with  its  own  weight,  some  heavier 
body  which  was  attached  to  it.  This  expedient,  so 
new  to  us,  proves  to  be  no  other  than  what  the  Au- 
thor of  nature  has  employed  in  the  gossamer  spider. 


CH.  XIV.]  THE    SPIDER.  245 

We  frequently  see  this  spider's  thread  floating  in 
the  air,  and  extended  from  hedge  to  hedge  across  a 
road  or  brook  of  four  or  five  yards'  width.  The 
animal  which  forms  the  thread  has  no  wings  where- 
with to  fly  from  one  extremity  to  the  other  of  this 
line,  nor  muscles  to  enable  it  to  spring  or  dart  to  so 
great  a  distance ;  yet  its  Creator  hath  laid  for  it  a 
path  in  the  atmosphere;  and  after  this  manner, 
though  the  insect  itself  be  heavier  than  air,  the 
thread  which  it,  spins  from  its  bowels  is  specifically 
lighter.  This  is  its  balloon.  The  spider,  left  to 
itself,  would  drop  to  the  ground ;  but  being  tied  to 
its  thread,  both  are  supported.  By  this  contrivance, 
the  creatures  mount  into  the  air  to  such  immense 
heights,  that  when  Dr.  Martin  Lister  ascended  York 
Minster,  he  still  saw  these  insects  much  above  him. 
In  the  fine  summer  days,  the  air  may  be  seen  filled, 
and  the  earth  covered  with  filmy  webs : — 

The  fine  nets  which  oft  we  woven  see,  of  scorched  dew. 

SPENSER. 

Most  nations  have  associated  something  poetical 
with  their  presence.  The  Germans,  from  constantly 
observing  them  in  the  beginning  of  the  autumn, 
have  styled  the  phenomenon  "  the  flitting  summer." 
The  French,  unable  to  account  for  the  existence  of 
such  pure  films,  in  the  open  and  beautiful  autumnal 
skies,  called  them  the  threads  of  the  "  Virgin."  And 
we  the  gossamer — 

Lovers  who  may  bestride  the  gossamer 
That  idles  in  the  wanton  air. 

Mr.  White  gives  a  curious  account  of  a  shower  of 
these  gossamers.  In  September,  1741,  being  intent 
on  field  sports,  he  found  the  whole  face  of  the  coun- 
try covered  with  a  coat  of  web  drenched  in  dew,  as 
thick  as  if  two  or  three  setting  nets  had  been  drawn 
one  over  the  other.  His  dogs  were  so  blinded  by 
them  as  to  be  obliged  to  lie  down  and  scrape  them- 
X2 


246  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [CH.  XIV. 

selves.  About  9  A.  M.  these  films,  some  an  inch 
broad  and  six  long,  fell  from  a  height,  and  continued 
to  do  so  the  whole  day,  with  a  velocity  which  proved 
their  weight.  When  the  most  elevated  parts  of  the 
country  were  ascended,  the  gossamers  were  seen  to 
fall  from  higher  regions ;  and  twinkling  and  glitter- 
ing in  the  sun,  they  appeared  like  a  starry  shower, 
fixing  the  attention  even  of  the  most  incurious. 

These  are  now  known  to  be  the  work  of  a  spider, 
for  they  have  been  either  caught  in  their  balloons,  or 
been  seen  to  take  flight.  To  produce  such  effects, 
their  numbers  of  course  must  be  prodigious.  Dr. 
Strach  says,  "  that  twenty  or  thirty  often  are  found 
on  a  single  stubble ;"  and  adds,  "  that  he  collected 
two  thousand  in  half  an  hour,  and  could  easily  have 
got  twice  as  many  had  he  wished  it." 

Dr.  Lister  has  seen  them  in  the  air  in  vast  num- 
bers. The  mode  in  which  they  mount  is  strikingly 
singular.  It  is  now  generally  admitted  that  several 
kinds  of  spiders  have  a  power  of  darting  out  a 
thread  in  any  direction,  and  to  a  comparatively  great 
distance.  The  mechanism,  however,  of  this  extra- 
ordinary effort  is  not  at  all  understood.  I  saw  a 
spider  descend  from  a  window-ledge,  by  means  of  a 
thread,  and  gathering  up  its  legs,  elevating  its  ab- 
domen, and  lying  on  its  back,  it  shot  out  another  to 
the  bricks,  as  straight  and  direct  as  an  arrow.  The 
distance,  I  am  sure,  could  not  have  been  much  less 
than  eight  inches. 

This  appears  to  be  the  mode  adopted  by  the  bird- 
spider.  It  shoots  out  a  thread,  which  being  lighter 
than  the  air,  mounts,  and  buoys  up  the  insect  itself, 
as  the  tail  of  a  kite  does  the  body.  Some  of  them, 
it  would  appear,  not  only  bestride  their  film,  but  roll 
it  up  in  a  mass,  and  thus  sail  in  a  balloon. 

"Every  day  in  fine  autumnal  weather,"  says 
White,  "  do  I  see  these  spiders  shooting  out  their 
web  and  mounting  aloft.  They  will  go  off  from  the 
finger  if  you  will  take  them  into  your  hand ;  last 


CH.  XIV.]  THE    SPIDER.  247 

summer  one  alighted  on  my  book,  as  I  was  reading 
in  the  parlour,  and  running  to  the  top  of  the  page, 
and  shooting  out  a  web,  took  its  departure  from 
thence.  But  what  I  most  wondered  at  was,  that  it 
went  off  with  considerable  velocity,  in  a  place  where 
no  air  was  stirring;  and  I  am  sure  I  did  not  assist  it 
with  my  breath ;  so  that  these  little  crawlers  seem 
to  have,  while  mounting,  some  locomotive  power, 
without  the  use  of  wings,  and  move  faster  than  the 
air  in  the  air  itself."  Their  motion  in  flying  is 
smoother  and  quicker  than  when  a  spider  runs  along 
its  thread. 

There  are  many  questions  connected  with  our 
aeronauts,  which  are  more  readily  asked  than  an- 
swered ;  and  the  first  is,  why  do  they  mount  at  all  ? 
Kirby  is  of  opinion,  that  they  are  destined  to  thin 
the  air  of  those  swarms  of  gnats  and  other  insects, 
which  ascend  to  considerable  height  in  the  summer 
evenings,  and  as  a  corroboration  of  his  conjectures, 
adds,  that  their  exuviae  are  detected  in  the  gossa- 
mers which  have  fallen. 

It  is  doubted  also,  whether  the  "  sea  of  gauze  sil- 
vered with  dew,"  which  is  found  in  the  summer 
morning,  covering  the  fallows,  is  ever  carried  up 
into  the  air.  The  dew  itself  is  greedily  drank  by 
these  spiders.  The  cause  of  the  showers  of  gossa- 
mer is  also  a  matter  of  dispute  among  naturalists. 

Spiders  frequently  manifest  various  modifications 
of  their  instinctive  craft  and  cruelty.  There  are 
some  species  that  lie  concealed  in  a  rolled  up  leaf, 
and  pounce  upon  any  insect  that  may  be  unwarily 
passing.  Others  that  lurk  in  the  cup  of  a  flower, 
and  murder  the  fly  that  comes  to  seek  honey. 
Others  counterfeit  death,  and  thus  inveigle  their 
prey  within  their  reach.  Others  seek  the  blossoms 
of  umbelliferous  plants,  which  resemble  them  in 
colour  and  in  shape,  and  thus  entrap  their  victims. 

There  is  a  tribe  of  hunting-spiders  that  leap  like 
tigers  on  their  prey,  and  what  is  more  extraordinary 


248  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [CH.  XIV. 

have  the  faculty  of  doing  so  sideways.  One  of 
these  jumped  two  feet  on  an  humble  bee.  They  ap- 
proach the  object  of  their  intended  attack  with  the 
noiseless  and  imperceptible  motion  of  the  shadow 
of  a  sun-dial.  If  the  fly  move,  the  spider  moves 
also ;  backwards,  forwards,  or  sideways,  and  that 
with  so  much  precision  as  to  time  and  distance,  that 
the  two  insects  appeared  as  if  bound  together  by 
some  invisible  chain,  or  actuated  by  the  same  spirit. 
If  the  fly  take  wing  and  pitch  behind  the  spider,  the 
head  of  the  latter  is  turned  round  to  meet  it  so 
quickly,  that  the  human  eye  is  deceived,  and  the 
spider  appears  to  be  motionless.  When  all  these 
manoeuvres  bring  the  fly  within  its  spring,  the  leap 
is  made  with  fearful  rapidity,  and  the  prey  struck 
down  like  lightning. 

The  redeeming  trait  in  the  history  of  these  cruel 
creatures  is,  their  affection  for  their  young.  All 
spiders  envelope  their  eggs  in  a  silken  cocoon ;  some 
hide  them  in  clefts  of  walls,  or  in  a  cylinder  formed 
of  leaves ;  some  carry  them  attached  to  their  abdo- 
men, or  bear  them  about  as  a  cat  lifts  its  kitten ; 
none  ever  desert  their  precious  charge.  A  spider, 
to  be  met  with  under  clods  of  earth,  may  frequently 
be  seen  to  carry  a  silken  globe  full  of  eggs  fixed  to 
its  body.  The  tenacity  of  affection  exhibited 
towards  this,  its  sole  treasure,  is  truly  touching; 
nothing,  not  even  its  life,  is  valued  in  comparison 
with  this  little  globe.  If  an  attempt  be  made  to  de- 
prive it  of  this  valued  deposite,  it  strenuously  re- 
sists :  take  it  away  entirely,  and  the  insect  remains 
motionless  and  rooted  to  the  spot  stupified  and  me- 
lancholy: restore  it,  and  you  restore  the  animal  to 
life :  it  eagerly  seizes  it,  and  runs  off  to  place  it  in 
a  securer  spot. 

Bonnet  threw  one  of  these  spiders,  to  whose  ab- 
domen the  bag  of  eggs  was  attached,  into  the  den 
of  the  ant-lion.  The  animal,  as  if  aware  of  its 
danger,  instantly  took  to  flight,  but  not  quickly 


CH.  XIV.]  THE    SPIDER.  249 

enough  to  prevent  the  ant-lion  from  seizing  the  bag 
of  eggs  between  its  formidable  pincers ;  the  mother 
made  every  effort  to  withdraw  herself  from  her 
dangerous  foe,  and  in  her  struggles  the  bag  became 
loosened,  and  was  retained  by  her  enemy.  Instead, 
however,  of  saving  her  own  life,  which  she  could 
easily  have  done  by  running  off,  she  instantly  turned 
and  seized  the  bag  between  her  jaws,  and  struggled 
to  regain  her  lost  treasure ;  the  enormous  strength 
of  the  ant-lion  was  too  great  for  her  powers,  even 
though  stimulated  by  the  full  force  of  maternal  in- 
stinct, and  the  eggs  were  consequently  drawn  under 
the  sand ;  still,  however,  she  retained  her  hold,  and 
rather  than  relinquish  that,  without  which  life  was 
a  burden,  she  suffered  herself  to  be  buried  alive  with 
her  progeny.  It  was  now  that  Bonnet  compas- 
sionated her  fate  and  rescued  her  from  the  jaws  of 
death,  but  he  could  not  restore  to  her  the  bag  of 
eggs  so  tenaciously  held  by  the  ant-lion.  She  lin- 
gered at  the  spot  where  the  eggs  were  buried,  re- 
gardless alike  of  her  own  danger,  and  of  the  efforts 
of  Bonnet  to  remove  her  from  her  enemy,  by  push- 
ing her  off  with  a  piece  of  twig. 

Her  cares  are  not  confined  to  the  egg  only,  but 
when  the  young  themselves  are  evolved,  she  allows 
them  to  cling  to  her  body,  until  such  time  as  they 
shall  become  strong  enough  to  hunt  for  themselves ; 
and  thus  laden,  she  may  be  seen  in  her  ordinary 
haunts.  Much  has  been  said  of  the  venom  of  spi- 
ders, but.  De  Geer  and  others,  who  have  made  the 
experiment  on  themselves,  have  never  found  any  ill 
effects  arising  from  tfae  trial. 

Spiders  have  been  domesticated  ;  a  Parisian  ma- 
nufacturer kept  and  fed  eight  hundred  of  these 
creatures,  in  one  apartment ;  they  became  so  tame, 
that  whenever  he  came  in  with  his  dish  of  flies,  they 
descended  to  take  their  food.  This  story,  related 
in  the  French  Dictionary  of  Natural  History,  if  true, 
proves,  that  even  these  solitary  and  cruel  creatures 


250  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [CH.  XV. 

may  in  some  degree  be  tamed,  and  lose  their  natural 
propensities  to  attack  and  eat  each  other. 

Another  instance  is  mentioned  by  Latreille,  in 
which  a  spider  appears  to  have  acquired  tame  habits. 
A  Frenchman  of  the  name  of  Pelisson,  being  im- 
prisoned in  the  Bastile,  was  deprived  of  pen,  ink, 
and  paper,  and  reduced  to  the  society  of  an  ignorant 
and  sullen  Basque,  whose  only  occupation  was 
playing  on  the  musette.  A  spider  made  its  web  at 
the  edge  of  the  window  which  lighted  the  prison ; 
and  to  relieve  the  dreadful  ennui  of  his  situation, 
Pelisson  undertook  to  tame  it,  by  placing  flies  in  its 
way,  while  the  Basque  played  upon  his  instrument. 
By  degrees  the  spider  became  accustomed  to  the 
sound,  and  ran  from  its  hole  to  receive  its  prey. 
Thus  by  being  always  summoned  by  the  same  sound, 
and  having  its  food  placed  gradually  at  a  farther 
distance  from  the  web,  the  insect  in  a  few  months 
became  so  well  disciplined,  that  at  the  first  signal, 
it  would  leave  its  hiding  place,  and  come  and  take 
its  flies  at  the  bottom  of  the  chamber,  under  Pelis- 
son's  eyes. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


CATERPILLARS. 

Their  singular  Habits—The  Grub  of  the  Domestic  Moth  fabricates  a 
Mantle— Habits  of  the  Field  Moth— Caddis-worm. 
* 

THE  habits  of  some  insects  during  their  larva  or 
caterpillar  state  are  so  singular,  and  manifest  so 
much  ingenuity  and  design,  that  a  short  account  of 
them  cannot  fail  to  prove  interesting. 

Few  insects  appear  more  deserving  of  admiration 
than  those  which  possess  the  art  of  fabricating  gar- 


CH.  XV. J  THE  CATERPILLAR.  251 

merits  for  their  own  use.  Like  the  human  race, 
they  come  into  the  world  naked ;  and  their  birth  is 
scarcely  completed,  when  they  begin  the  task  of 
clothing  themselves.  The  reader  will  easily  per- 
ceive that  the  insects  here  alluded  to  are  the  little 
moths  which,  in  warm  weather,  are  seen  to  issue 
from  our  closets,  where  furniture,  cloth,  ermine, 
feathers,  all  fall  a  sacrifice  to  the  depredations,  not 
indeed  of  the  moth  itself,  but  of  the  worm  which  is 
evolved  from  the  egg  of  the  moth.  All  that  the 
moth  does  is  to  deposite  its  eggs  on  these  different 
articles  ;  but  it  is  the  grub  that  proceeds  from  these 
eggs  that  effects  all  the  mischief.  The  grubs  of  the 
different  sorts  of  domestic  moths  do  not  make  their 
garments  after  the  same  fashion,  nor  of  the  same 
materials.  It  is  probable  that  the  different  species 
of  moths  vary  as  much  in  this  respect  as  the  inha- 
bitants of  different  countries:  the  shape  of  their 
garment  is  peculiarly  convenient ;  it  is  a  small  cy- 
lindrical tube  open  at  both  ends,  and  exactly  fitted 
to  the  body  of  the  grub ;  the  stuff  used  for  this  pur- 
pose is  fabricated  by  the  moth.  The  tissue  is  a 
mixture  of  hair  and  silk ;  but  as  this  would  not  be 
sufficiently  soft  for  the  tender  body  of  the  worm,  it 
is  lined  internally  with  pure  silk.  Articles  manu- 
factured of  hair,  fur,  or  wool  supply  the  caterpillar 
of  the  moth  with  the  raw  material  which  it  wants 
for  the  fabrication  of  its  stuff;  they  select  those 
hairs  which  appear  most  suitable  to  their  purpose ; 
cut  them  with  their  teeth,  and  with  admirable  skill 
incorporate  them  with  their  silky  tissue. 

They  never  change  their  garment ;  that  which 
they  put  on  in  infancy  continues  to  shelter  them 
during  the  whole  of  their  lives.  But  they  are  able  both 
to  lengthen  and  widen  their  vesture  whenever  they 
think  proper.  To  lengthen  it  is  a  very  simple  pro- 
cess :  it  only  requires  that  a  few  new  threads,  or 
new  hairs,  should  be  added  to  each  end  of  their  gar- 
ment ;  but  to  widen  it  is  a  matter  of  more  difficulty : 


252  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [cH,  XV. 

to  effect  this  object,  the  insect  adopts  the  same  steps 
as  a  human  mechanic  would  pursue  under  similar 
circumstances.  It  splits  its  garment  on  the  two 
opposite  sides,  and  in  the  intervals  thus  formed,  skil- 
fully inserts  two  pieces  of  stuff  of  the  necessary 
width ;  it  does  not  at  once  split  its  coat  from  one 
end  to  the  other :  this  would  cause  the  parts  to  se- 
parate too  widely,  as  well  as  expose  the  caterpillar 
in  a  state  of  nakedness  to  the  action  of  the  open 
air :  to  avx^id  these  inconveniences,  it  splits  each 
side  only  half  the  length  of  the  whole  garment ;  it 
then  proceeds  to  the  other  end,  which  it  enlarges  in 
a  similar  manner.  Thus,  instead  of  two  whole 


This  figure  shows  the  garment  split  in  half  the  length. 

length  openings,  filled  up  by  two  whole  length  pieces, 
four  half  length  openings  and  pieces  are  used.  A 
reasonable  agent  could  not  follow  a  more  ingenious 
or  more  efficient  plan.  A  coat  made  in  this  fashion 
is  not  the  work  of  a  day  nor  yet  of  a  month ;  differ- 
ent caterpillars  labour  with  different  degrees  of  dili- 
gence ;  and  even  the  same  worm,  when  deprived  of 
its  clothing  in  an  advanced  stage  of  its  existence, 
will  finish  in  one  week  what  it  had  previously  taken 
it  perhaps  months  to  execute. 

The  garment  of  this  caterpillar  is  always  of  the 
same  colour  as  the  stuff  from  which  its  raw  material 
has  been  taken ;  if  a  worm,  enveloped  in  a  blue  coat, 
happen  to  remove  to  a  piece  of  red  cloth,  the  addi- 
tions which  may  be  made  to  the  ends  of  the  tube,  or 
the  pieces  inserted  in  the  sides  to  widen  it,  will  be 
of  a  red  colour ;  if  it  happen  to  travel  over  cloth 
of  different  colours,  its  garment  will  exhibit  a  cor- 
responding variety  of  hues. 

These  caterpillars  live  upon  the  same  materials 


CH.  XV.]  THE  CATERPILLAR  253 

which  compose  their  covering1.  It  is  singular  that 
these  substances  should  be  digested  by  them ;  and 
still  more  singular  that  their  colour  should  be  so 
little  affected  b)^  this  digestive  process  ;  for  the  ex- 
crements of  these  caterpillars  are  invariably  found 
to  be  of  the  same  colour  (though  lighter)  as  the 
substances  which  they  may  have  eaten. 

These  caterpillars  make  short  excursions  :  when 
the  part  in  which  they  first  settled  has  been  shaven 
quite  bare,  the  animals  remove  to  another  spot  in 
search  of  a  fresh  supply.  Those  which  settle  upon 
garments  of  fur  do  not  like  to  walk  over  long  hairs ; 


they  therefore  never  proceed  except  scythe  in  hand, 
and  cut  off  every  pile  which  comes  in  their  way. 
Now  and  then  they  are  seen  in  a  state  of  repose ; 
they  then  fix  their  case  to  the  body  of  the  cloth  with 
little  threads,  and  thus,  as  it  were,  come  to  an  an- 
chor. They  fix  themselves  still  more  firmly  to  the 
cloth,  when  about  to  fall  into  a  torpid  state  during 
the  winter,  or  when  about  to  undergo  their  meta- 
morphosis ;  they  then  close  exactly  both  the  ends  of 
their  case  with  silken  threads,  in  order  that  they 


254  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [CH.  XV. 

may  be  in  a  state  of  greater  safety  while  assuming1 
first  the  form  of  chrysalis,  and  subsequently  that  of 
a  moth. 

The  admiration  which  the  ingenuity  and  proceed- 
ings of  the  domestic  moth  inspired  in  the  mind  of 
Reaumur  did  not  prevent  him  from  endeavouring  to 
discover  the  best  means  of  destroying  them,  and  of 
rescuing  our  furniture  and  clothes  from  their  de- 
structive ravages.  After  various  experiments  made 
with  different  substances,  he  gives  the  preference  to 
oil  of  turpentine,  whicli,  as  he  asserts,  proves  always 
fatal  to  these  insects,  v  A  few  drops  of  this  oil 
spread  upon  sheets  of  paper  were  invariably  found 
to  destroy  them.  Its  smell  threw  them  into  convul- 
sions, and  covered  with  livid  spots  they  were  seen 
to  expire.  It  has  also  been  found  that  the  fumes  of 
tobacco  will  destroy  the  moth. 

But  interesting  as  the  proceedings  of  the  domestic 
moth  may  justly  appear,  they  are  still  infinitely  sur- 
passed by  the  ingenuity  and  industry  of  the  field  or 
rustic  moth.  This  latter  tribe  construct  their  gar- 
ments of  materials  collected  from  the  leaves  of 
plants ;  but  before  these  materials  can  be  used,  it  is 
indispensable  that  they  should  pass  through  a  pre- 
paratory process,  which  may  give  them  the  lightness 
and  pliancy  necessary  to  render  them  fit  for  their 
clothing.  Thoir  proceedings  are  so  extraordinary, 
and  in  appearance  so  rational  and  well  considered ; 
they  are  varied  in  a  manner  so  suitable  to  the  exi- 
gency and  circumstances  of  each  particular  case, 
that  their  habits  justly  deserve  to  be  detailed. 

These  caterpillars  are  a  species  of  leaf  miners, 
and  are  to  be  found  in  the  greatest  numbers  in  the 
oak  and  the  elm.  The  mantle  which  they  fabricate 
is  nearly  cylindrical  in  form,  but  the  ends  are  not 
similarly  fashioned ;  the  fore  end,  where  the  head 
of  the  caterpillar  shows  itself,  is  rounded,  bent,  and 
hemmed ;  the  other  end  is  formed  of  three  triangular 
pieces,  which  by  their  natural  spring  are  brought 


CH.  XV.^  THE    CATERPILLAR.  255 

into  a  point,  and  which  easily  open  in  order  to  make 
way  for  the  extremity  of  the  insect. 

When  beginning  to  fabricate  this  mantle,  the 
caterpillar  glides  into  the  pulpy  substance  of  a  green 
leaf,  penetrates  between  the  two  membranes  which 
form  its  external  coats,  and  detaches  the  pulpy  sub- 
stance or  parenchyma,  which  is  enclosed  in  these 
membranes.  This  substance  constitutes  the  proper 
food  of  the  caterpillar ;  hence,  while  the  animal  satis- 
fies the  cravings  of  hunger,  it  prepares  the  stuff 
from  which  its  mantle  is  to  be  fabricated ;  the  two 
membranes  of  the  leaf  are  the  stuff  destined  for  this 
purpose.  Each  of  these  thin  substances  is  to  the 
caterpillar  what  a  piece  of  cloth  is  to  a  tailor ;  like 
that  useful  mechanic,  the  little  animal  cuts  each 
piece  of  the  form  and  proportion  which  it  ought  to 
have,  in  order  to  answer  the  purpose  for  which  it  is 
destined. 

Anxious  to  ascertain  how  this  mantle  was  made, 
Reaumur  watched  his  opportunity,  and  removed  one 
of  them,  before  the  insect,  which  happened  to  be 
then  busily  feeding  in  the  parenchyma  of  the  leaf, 
had  time  to  retreat :  the  creature,  having  discovered 
its  loss,  seemed  to  be  in  great  alarm,  and  came  out 
tail  foremost;  it  felt  about  for  its  mantle,  but  not 
finding  what  it  sought,  it  re-entered  between  the 
membranes  of  the  leaf,  where  it  began  to  feed  right 
and  left ;  having  consumed  the  parenchyma,  from  a 
space  of  adequate  dimensions,  it  proceeded  to  repair 
its  loss.  From  the  membranes  of  the  leaf  it  cut 
two  pieces,  equal  in  extent,  and  similar  in  shape, 
each  piece  being  destined  to  form  one-half  of  the 
mantle.  This  part  of  the  process  was  executed 
with  singular  rapidity,  as  well  as  with  matchless 
skill  and  precision.  This  is  far  from  being  a  me- 
chanical operation;  for  the  pieces  composing  the 
mantle  are  not  regular  figures,  one  end  of  each  being 
double  the  size  of  the  other.  The  materials  of  the 


256  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [CH.  XV. 

mantle  being  thus  prepared  and  cut,  the  next  opera- 
tion was  to  sew  the  two  pieces  together. 

The  seams  are  not  completed  at  once :  the  insect 
places  itself  between  the  two  pieces  while  they  are 
flat ;  it  then  brings  them  together  at  certain  points, 
with  intervals  of  considerable  extent  still  open, 
while  it  twists  and  turns  about  its  body  in  all  direc- 
tions ;  by  this  means  the  plane  surfaces  of  the  two 
pieces  become  gradually  moulded  into  a  concave 
form,  suited  to  the  body  of  the  insect.  Having  thus, 
like  a  prudent  and  judicious  tailor,  ascertained  that 
the  mantle  will  fit  in  every  part,  it  brings  the  edges 
of  the  pieces  close  together  throughout  their  whole 
length,  and  sews  them  so  neatly  and  firmly,  that 
although  the  place  and  direction  of  the  seam  be  well 
known,  it  is  extremely  difficult,  even  with  the  aid  of 
a  lens,  to  detect  it  in  the  finished  mantle. 

But  the  little  animal  is  not  content  with  an  out- 
ward covering,  formed  solely  of  the  membranes  of 
a  leaf;  this  would  not  probably  be  found  either  soft 
enough  or  warm  enough  for  its  purpose :  all  inequali- 
ties which  might  injure  its  tender  skin  are  care- 
fully removed  from  every  part  of  the  interior,  and 
the  whole  is  doubled  and  lined  throughout  with  a 
coating  of  silk ;  the  lining  being  rendered  thicker  in 
those  parts  which,  from  being  prominent,  are  pecu- 
liarly exposed  to  friction.  Reaumur  found  that  the 
insect  whose  coat  he  abstracted  completed  another 
in  the  short  space  of  twelve  hours. 

The  finishing  hand  having  been  thus  put  to  the 
mantle,  another  operation  now  remains  to  be  exe- 
cuted. It  is  necessary  that  it  should  be  detached 
altogether  from  the  leaf,  in  which,  as  well  as  from 
which,  it  has  been  fabricated ;  to  effect  this  requires 
strength  rather  than  skill :  accordingly,  the  insect 
crawls  partially  out  of  its  case,  pushes  its  head  for- 
ward, as  nearly  as  can  be,  in  a  straight  line,  fastens 
its  fore-legs  upon  the  leaf,  and  laying  hold  of  the 


CH.  XV.]  THE    CATERPILLAR.  257 

inside  of  the  case  with  its  hind-legs,  detaches  it  in- 
stantly from  its  original  place,  and  drags  it  forward : 
it  advances  thus  gradually,  and  at  length  fixes  the 
case  with  silken  cords,  either  to  another  leaf  or  an- 
other part  of  the  same  leaf,  containing  a  fresh  sup- 
ply of  provisions.  The  annexed  figure  gives  a  re- 
presentation of  the  different  operations  which  have 
been  just  described.  In  the  first  (fig.  1)  the  worm 
is  seen  between  the  thin  membranes  of  the  leaf  and 
destitute  of  its  coat ;  the  second  (2)  shows  the  com- 
mencement of  the  cutting  process ;  the  third  (3)  re- 
presents the  work  in  a  state  considerably  advanced ; 
the  insect  being  engaged  in  converting  it  from  a 
plane  into  a  cylinder ;  in  the  fourth  (4)  it  is  seen  en- 
deavouring to  detach  its  finished  mantle  from  the 
leaf;  the  last  is  a  distinct  representation  of  the  little 
animal  enveloped  in  its  new  coat. 


j> 


As  soon  as  the  insect  has  fastened  its  mantle,  or, 
as  it  may  be  properly  called,  its  tent,  to  a  fresh  por- 
tion of  a  leaf  on  which  it  intends  to  feed,  it  pierces 
the  outer  skin  or  epidermis,  eats  only  the  juicy  sub- 
stance contained  between  the  two  membranes  of  the 
leaf,  and  sedulously  avoids  doing  the  slightest  injury 
to  the  upper  membrane ;  it  gradually  extends  its  ex- 
cursions in  search  of  food,  considerably  beyond  the 
Y2 


258  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [CH.  XV. 

part  to  which  the  mouth  of  its  mantle  is  attached ; 
and  as  it  consumes  the  intervening  substance*  it 
renders  the  epidermis  so  transparent,  that  its  own 
body  and  motions  became  perfectly  visible.  As  the 
pulpy  substance  nearest  to  the  mouth  of  the  case 
becomes  exhausted,  the  insect  is  of  course  forced  to 
advance  farther  in  search  of  a  fresh  supply;  the 
body  is,  therefore,  gradually  dragged  out  of  the 
case,  until  at  last  little  remains  in  it  except  the  tail : 
hence  the  necessity  of  fastening  the  mantle  to  the 
leaf,  as  without  this  precaution  it  would  drop  off, 
leaving  the  insect  defenceless.  If  the  leaf  be  in  the 
slightest  degree  agitated,  it  immediately  retreats 
backward  into  its  case,  so  that  whether  feeding  or 
reposing  it  is  always  under  cover. 

The  following  figures  show  not  only  that  the  case 
of  the  insect  is  fixed  at  an  angle  more  or  less  in- 
clined to  the  under  surface  of  the  leaf,  but  likewise 
give  a  correct  representation  of  the  mantle  itself; 
the  shape,  however,  frequently  varies :  in  some  in- 
stances, instead  of  being  indented,  it  is  simply  a 
cylinder  slightly  curved. 


Fig.  1,  a  mantle  with  a  serrated  border. 

2,  a  mantle  which  is  cylindrical,  and  fixed  at  an  angle  on  the  leaf. 


Other   caterpillars,   more    sagacious   than    that 
already  described,  mine  the  leaf  near  one  of  its 


CH.  XV.]  THE  CATERPILLAR. 

edges,  taking  great  care  not  to  separate  the  two 
membranes  where  they  are  joined  together  by  na- 
tural indentations. 


In  this  figure,  the  caterpillar  has  left  his  old  coat  attached  to  the  stalk 
of  the  leaf,  and  has  taken  the  first  step  in  forming  a  new  one,  by 
eating  out  a  portion,  which  is  seen  white  in  the  cut. 

It  will  readily  be  perceived,  that  by  proceeding  in 
this  manner,  the  insect  saves  much  labour ;  it  finds 
by  this  means  one  side  cut  ready  for  its  purposes, 
and  also  joined  and  sewed  at  the  indentations  by  the 
hand  of  nature,  even  more  neatly  and  firmly  than  it 
could  be  done  by  its  own  labour. 

But  what  is  still  more  extraordinary,  these  cater- 
pillars are  found  to  vary  their  proceedings  according 
to  circumstances.  Reaumur  surprised  one  of  them 
while  engaged  in  the  act  of  making  its  mantle.  To 
form  one  side  of  it,  the  creature  had  selected  the 
ready  joined  edge  of  a  leaf,  mining  only  for  the  other 
side ;  with  a  pair  of  scissors,  Reaumur  cut  off  the 
indentations  at  their  roots :  by  this  means,  the 
membranes  were  of  course  loosened  at  their  point 
of  junction.  Without  the  slightest  hesitation  or 
delay,  the  worm  adopted  the  only  expedient  which 
could  remedy  the  mischief;  it  instantly  set  about 
sowing  artificially  the  two  edges,  which  were  pre* 


260  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [cH.  XV. 

viously  joined  by  the  hand  of  nature,  and  then  pro- 
ceeded in  its  subsequent  operations,  just  as  if  it  had 
experienced  no  interruption.  It  will  be  easily  per- 
ceived that  the  proceedings  of  a  caterpillar,  which 
makes  its  coat  on  the  edge  of  a  leaf,  must  differ  in 
many  points  from  those  of  another  worm,  which 
fabricates  it  in  the  centre :  the  latter  may  cut  away 
as  boldly  as  it  pleases ;  there  is  no  danger  of  a  fall, 
since  the  inequalities  of  the  edges  are  found  to  re- 
tain the  pieces  in  their  original  position:  if  the 
former,  however,  were  to  proceed  in  the  same  mariner, 
and  separate  the  side  of  its  coat  nearest  the  centre 
of  the  leaf,  before  it  had  been  thoroughly  finished, 
the  whole  would  necessarily  fall  to  the  ground  for 
want  of  support.  Accordingly,  as  soon  as  the  cun- 
ning tailor  had  repaired  the  damage  which  its  coat 


had  sustained  from  the  scissors  of  the  naturalist,  it 
mined  a  space  sufficiently  large  for  the  purpose ;  this 
part  was  then  rounded,  made  hollow,  and  carefully 
lined  with  silk ;  and  it  was  not  until  all  this  had  been 
completed,  that  the  insect  began  to  cut  its  mantle 
on  the  side  which  was  nearest  the  centre  of  the  leaf. 
In  the  execution  of  this  part  of  the  operation  much 
caution  was  evinced.  The  caterpillar  did  riot  cut 
continuously  from  one  end  to  the  other ;  it  only  cut 
the  intervals  which  lay  between  the  large  nervures 
of  the  leaf;  so  that  although  a  considerable  propor- 
tion of  the  whole  length  of  the  coat  was  separate^ 


H.  XV.]  THE    CATERPILLAR.  261 

from  the  body  of  the  leaf,  it  was  still  retained  in  its 
original  position  by  these  natural  cords  or  stays. 
Nor  does  the  silken  lining  cover  every  part  of  the 
inside  towards  the  centre  of  the  leaf;  in  order  that 
the  coat  might  be  detached  from  the  leaf,  it  was 
necessary  that  the  nervures,  or  cables,  which  held  it 
in  its  place,  should  be  at  length  cut  away.  The 
cunning  creature  had  there  fore  left  loopholes,  through 
which  it  might  thrust  its  head  and  cut  these  natural 
cables,  one  after  another.  As  each  nervure  was 
cut  away,  the  loophole  which  enabled  the  insect  to 
reach  it  was  closed  up,  and  the  space  nicely  lined 
with  silk.  All  the  others  having  been  cut  away,  the 
coat  became  at  last  suspended  by  one  only  of  these 
nervures ;  at  the  proper  time,  this  last  nervure  was 
cut  off,  when  the  insect  taking  up  its  finished  mantle 
walked  away. 

The  caterpillars  of  the  moth  which  feed  on  wool- 
len stuffs  and  household  furniture  do  not  change 
their  dress,  but  simply  enlarge  it  as  the  size  in- 
creases ;  but  the  caterpillars  of  the  field  moth  fabri- 
cate an  entirely  new  suit,  whenever  they  have  out- 
grown their  old  covering.  It  is  within  these  mantles 
that  they  undergo  the  usual  metamorphosis,  and 
reach  their  perfect  state,  when  they  appear  in  the 
shape  of  moths,  in  size  considerably  inferior  to  those 
which  infest  closets  and  clothes-presses. 

Each  tribe  of  the  moths  fabricates  its  vestments 
after  a  fashion  peculiar  to  itself,  and  different  from 
that  adopted  by  others. 

A  moth  which  feeds  on  a  species  of  astragalus 
adorns  its  robe,  as  ladies  used  to  do  in  other  times, 
with  furbelows.  The  body  of  the  habit  is  a  cylin- 
drical tube  lined  with  silk,  and  ornamented  with  fur- 
belows puffed  out ;  each  flounce  seems  to  mark  the 
growth  of  the  worm ;  for  Reaumur  conjectures,  that 
when  it  has  outgrown  the  first,  it  adds  a  second  di- 
vision to  its  tube,  and  to  that  a  third :  they  are  rarely 
found  to  have  more  than  three  flounces ;  each  fur- 


262  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [cH.  XV. 

below  is  composed  of  two  semicircles  joined  to- 
gether. 


Fig.  1,  the  furbelow-mantle  seen  stuck  to  the  leaf. 
2,  the  mantle  separated. 

Another  moth  (psyche graminella)  covers  its  silken 
coat  with  bits  of  grass,  and  seems  as  if  it  were  pro- 
tected by  a  coat  of  mail  or  a  covering  of  tiles.  This 
appears  to  be  done  in  order  to  give  strength  and  con- 
sistence to  the  silken  tube,  and  enable  it  to  sustain 


Mantle  of  Psycho  Gramirmlla 


CH.  XV.]  THE    CATERPILLAR.  263 

the  friction  to  which  it  is  unavoidably  exposed  from 
the  movements  of  the  insect. 

Although  the  vestments  of  each  tribe  are  gene- 
rally formed  in  a  uniform  manner,  still  there  are 
some  exceptions  to  this ;  for  instance,  the  caddis- 
worm,  so  well  known  to  old  Isaak  Walton,  and  to 
all  the  brothers  of  the  angle,  is  not  at  all  choice  in 
the  selection  of  the  ornaments  with  which  it  deco- 
rates its  coat :  shells,  stems,  leaves,  straws,  and  bits 
of  wood,  in  short,  almost  any  manageable  substance, 
will  serve  its  purpose.  The  only  thing  which  is 
common  to  all  the  figures  is,  the  cylindrical  tube 
opens  at  each  extremity. 


1.  In  figure  1,  the  worm  has  covered  its  silken  case  with  leaves,  so 
arranged  as  to  present  the  appearance  of  a  Spanish  mantle. 

2.  In  fig.  2,  it  is  bristled  all  over  with  stalks  of  plants,  surmounted  by 
a  huge  shell,  and  two  pieces  of  wood,  looking  very  much  like  horns. 

3.  In  fig.  3,  the  worm  is  seen  cased  in  two  semi-cylindrical  pieces  of 
hollow  bark ;  having  accidentally  lighted  upon  these  materials,  it 
has  joined  them  together,  and  has  thus  formed  a  complete  covering 
with  little  or  no  sewing. 

4.  Fig.  4  represents  the  worm  enveloped  in  a  symmetrical  and  spiral 
case  of  riband  beautifully  rolled ;  the  parts  are  so  nicely  fitted,  that 
it  has  the  appearance  of  being  one  continuous  piece ;  a  careful  ex- 
amination will,  however,  show,  that  it  is  composed  of  several  de- 
tached bits  joined  together. 

5.  The  last,  fig.  5,  exhibits  a  section  of  one  of  those  cases,  with  tha 
bits  of  wood  arranged  around  it. 

Sometimes  these  coats  are  covered  exclusively 
with  shells,  which  occasionally  envelope  living  snails, 


264  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [cH.  XV. 

fixed  in  such  a  way  as  to  prevent  them  from  chang- 
ing their  place 


It  is  not,  however,  to  be  imagined,  that  the  worm 
loads  its  case  with  these  singular  materials  without  a 
valid  reason.  This  worm  is  an  aquatic  insect ;  the 
annexed  figure  will  show  that  its  form  is  but  little 


adapted  for  swimming ;  its  long  body,  encumbered 
with  six  legs,  is  specifically  heavier  than  water,  the 
element  in  which  it  has  to  seek  its  food.  As  a  com- 
pensation, the  Author  of  nature  seems  to  have  en- 
dowed it  with  an  instinctive  faculty,  which  enables 
it  to  know  what  substances  are  lighter  than  water : 
these  it  attaches  to  its  coat,  in  order  to  counterpoise 
its  own  excess  of  gravity,  and  enable  it  to  swim 
on  the  surface,  in  the  centre,  or  at  the  bottom  of  the 
element  in  which  it  has  to  seek  its  food.  This 
seems  to  account  for  the  variety  and  singularity 
observable  in  the  coats  of  those  insects.  When 
they  want  to  ascend,  the  quantity  of  hollow  and 
buoyant  substances  attached  to  them  is  increased : 
in  order  to  descend,  the  light  and  hollow  substances 
are  either  diminished  or  counterpoised  by  an  addition 
uf  heavy  materials,  such  as  shells  or  gravel. 
Another  tribe  of  moths  (the  Galena  %f  Fabricius), 


CH.  XV.]  THE    CATERPILLAR.  265 

instead  of  clothing  themselves  in  the  manner  above 
described,  shelter  themselves  in  hollow  tubes,  which 
thev  lengthen  as  they  advance.  One  species  (the 
Galeria  Cerea)  establishes  its  residence  among  the 
warlike  and  well-armed  inhabitants  of  the  bee-hive ; 
where  it  subsists  at  the  expense  of  this  industrious 
race,  cutting  and  destroying  works  which  have 
required  the  greatest  industry  and  art  to  execute. 
It  is  natural  to  imagine  that  the  bees  do  not  willingly 
allow  this  destruction  to  be  effected  by  an  insect 
which,  when  it  has  reached  perfection,  is  but  a  con- 
temptible and  effeminate  moth,  and  which  in  its  im- 
perfect state  is  merely  a  worm  easily  pierced  by 
their  sting ;  and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  many 
fall  a  sacrifice  to  their  just  anger.  Reaumur  has 
seen  several  bees  chasing  a  moth  all  over  the  hive : 
the  creature,  however,  ran  faster  than  its  pursuers, 
and  after  much  twisting  and  turning,  got  between 
the  interstices  and  the  corners  of  the  cells,  where 
it  remained  entirely  beyond  the  reach  of  its  enemies. 
In  this  situation  of  perfect  security  the  moth  lays 
its  eggs :  from  these  eggs,  in  the  proper  season, 
worms  proceed,  which  instantly  attack  the  wax  for 
the  purpose  of  constructing  a  gallery.  Each  cater- 
pillar has  its  own  distinct  gallery,  which  is  a  winding 
tube,  sometimes  eighteen  inches  long :  no  part  of 
the  comb  is  safe,  and  the  devastation  committed  is 
sometimes  so  great,  that  its  legitimate  inhabitants 
are  often  compelled  to  quit  the  hive.  The  interior 
of  these  tubes  is  lined  with  silk.  It  constitutes  one 
of  the  curious  anomalies  which  are  to  be  met  with 
in  the  works  of  nature,  that  bees,  which  in  other 
respects  perform  wonders,  should  never  attempt  to 
destroy  these  tubes — they  will  eat  away  paper  and 
cut  wood ;  yet  they  have  never  been  known  to  touch 
these  long  galleries,  which  perforate  and  destroy 
their  combs  in  every  direction. 
Z 


266  NATURAL    HISTORY.  fcH.  XVI 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

SOCIAL    CATERPILLARS. 

Move  in  regular  Files — Form  Nests  lined  with  Silk — "  The  Procession- 
ary"—The  Leaf -rolling— The  Leaf-bending — TJie  Leaf -mining  C  a 
terpil.lar. 

THE  caterpillars  described  in  the  last  chapter  are 
hermits,  which  lead  a  solitary  life :  there  are,  how- 
ever, other  tribes  which  spend  either  a  part  or  the 
whole  of  their  vermicular  life  in  society.  The  per- 
fect insect  deposites  all  its  eggs  on  the  same  leaf  or 
plant,  and  the  caterpillars  proceeding  from  these 
eggs  are  disclosed  about  the  same  time,  and  fre- 
quently live  together  until  they  assume  a  different 
form.  The  gold-tailed  moth  (Jlrctia  Chrysorrhcea) 
is  one  of  those  insects  which  lay  eggs  productive  of 
social  caterpillars.  They  deposite  their  eggs  in  a 
cover,  formed  of  hair  plucked  from  their  own  body. 
The  moment  one  of  these  caterpillars  is  evolved,  it 
seeks  its  food  on  the  leaf  on  which  the  Author  of 
nature  had  taught  the  parent  insect  to  deposite  it : 
a  second  soon  joins  the  first-born :  and  a  third  speed- 
ily follows  the  second :  thus  a  row  of  caterpillars 
parallel  to  each  other  may  be  seen  reaching  nearly 
across  the  leaf:  a  second  row  then  begins  to  form 
itself;  which,  when  it  has  extended  across  the  leaf, 
is  succeeded  by  a  third.  The  whole  of  the  upper 
surface  of  the  leaf  becomes  thus  entirely  covered, 
except  a  small  space  left  open  for  the  first  rank  to 
feed  upon.  The  heads  of  each  rank  being  generally 
in  the  same  line,  they  all  advance  simultaneously ; 
and  their  progress  has  very  much  the  appearance  of 
a  regular  military  movement ;  as  may  be  seen  by  the 
annexed  figure. 


CH.  XVI.4]  THE  CATERPILLAR.  267 


They  eat  only  the  upper  membrane  of  the  leaf; 
leaving-  the  larger  nervures  and  the  under  skin  un- 
touched. The  parts  which  they  do  not  consume, 
are  wanted  in  order  to  construct  a  habitation  to  pro- 
tect them  against  the  inclemencies  of  the  weather, 
and  conceal  them  from  their  natural  enemies.  As 
soon  as  they  have  satisfied  the  calls  of  appetite, 
some  of  the  young  caterpillars  set  about  tying  the 
leaf,  which,  having  been  already  rendered  thin  and 
supple,  is  easily  made  to  assume  a  concave  shape. 
The  threads  used  in  joining  the  edges  of  the  leaf,  so 
as  to  give  it  a  cup-like  shape,  are  so  many,  that  they 
form  a  little  silken  roof,  under  which  the  caterpillars 
feed.  The  exposure,  however,  to  the  light  and 
heat  does  not  seem  to  be  agreeable  to  them ;  they 
therefore  add  to  the  thin  silken  roof  threads  in  such 
quantities,  that  a  perfectly  white  and  impervious 
web  is  made.  These,  after  all,  are  but  temporary 
sheds  hastily  formed,  until  the  insects  have  had 
time  to  construct  a  more  complete  and  durable  fa- 
bric. After  the  lapse  of  a  few  days  they  commence 
the  erection  of  their  new  abode,  which  is  a  silken 
tent,  sufficiently  capacious  to  contain  the  whole 
community,  and  so  closely  woven,  as  to  afford  them, 
during  the  whole  of  the  winter,  a  complete  shelter 
both  from  wind  and  rain.  They  lay  the  foundation 
of  their  new  edifice,  by  covering  a  shoot  with  silk, 
and  carefully  nibbling  away  all  the  leaf-buds,  so  as 


268  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  XVI. 

to  prevent  them  from  growing  in  the  spring :  they 
thus  secure  their  abode  from  the  destruction  which 
would  ensue  from  the  sprouting  of  the  branches. 
They  then  enclose,  in  a  double  covering  of  silk,  one 
or  two  leaves  at  the  end  of  the  shoot ;  these  leaves 
being  thus  brought  together  are  worked  into  the 
form  of  a  vault :  the  nest  of  these  caterpillars  may 
very  commonly  be  observed  attached  to  our  fruit- 
trees  in  the  autumn,  when  the  fall  of  the  leaves  dis- 
closes them  to  view.  By  an  inexperienced  eye  one 
of  these  nests  might  be  mistaken  for  the  web  of  a 
spider:  indeed,  when  deserted  by  the  caterpillars, 
they  not  unfrequently  become  the  abode  of  this  in- 
sect. These  nests  vary  in  shape ;  some  being  round, 
others  flat. 


They  differ  also  in  extent :  in  proportion  also  as 
they  become  enlarged,  either  in  length,  breadth,  or 
capacity,  a  greater  number  of  leaves,  little  shoots, 
and  even  branches,  are  comprised  within  the  limits 
of  the  tent.  The  irregularity  of  their  shape  arises 
from  the  additional  webs  which,  from  time  to  time, 
it  becomes  necessary  to  form.  These  additional  webs 
divide  the  interior  of  the  nest  into  regular  compart- 
ments ;  each  of  them  capable  of  containing  a  number 


CH.  XVT.]  THE  CATERPILLAR.  269 

of  caterpillars.  If  a  section  of  these  nests  be  exa- 
mined with  a  microscope,  the  cells  may  be  dis- 
tinctly perceived ;  some  of  them  containing  cater- 
pillars, others  excrements,  and  others  both.  The 


difficulty,  is  to  comprehend  how  these  insects  find 
ingress  and  egress,  in  such  an  apparent  labyrinth. 
But  in  each  web  doors  or  holes  may  be  perceived, 
which,  in  adding  new  webs  to  old  ones,  they  care- 
fully avoid  obliterating. 

Into  these  nests,  which  they  have  been  taught  to 
spin  of  a  texture  sufficiently  strong  to  protect  them 
during  the  space  of  eight  months,  from  the  sun,  the 
rain,  and  the  storms,  they  retire  during  a  part  of  the 
night,  as  well  as  during  that  perilous  period  in  which 
they  undergo  their  metamorphosis.  So  tender  are 
they,  that  they  find  it  necessary  not  only  to  line  their 
tent  with  the  softest  silk,  but  also  to  carpet  with  the 
same  material  all  the  roads  and  approaches  which 
lead  to  this  habitation.  Having  lived  together  till 
the  beginning  of  summer,  they  then  separate,  and 
undergo  their  usual  metamorphosis. 

There  is  a  very  singular  species  of  caterpillar 
which  fixes  its  residence  on  the  oak.  It  is  a  stranger 
to  this  country,  although  well  known  in  France. 
From  six  hundred  to  eight  hundred  individuals  fre- 
quently dwell  together 4n  the  same  nest :  the  exter- 
nal form  of  these  habitations  presents  nothing  very 
striking ;  it  resembles  the  large  knots  formed  on  the 
tree  itself.  In  order  to  accommodate  this  great 
Z2 


270 


NATURAL   HISTORY. 


[CH.  XVI 

number  of  caterpillars,  its  dimensions  must  of  course 
be  considerable.  Some  of  them  measure  eighteen 
or  twenty  inches  in  length,  five  or  six  in  breadth, 
and  four  in  depth.  Each  is  a  simple  pocket  without 
partitions;  the  sides  being  composed  of  several 
layers  of  a  grayish  coloured  silk,  which  assimilates 
so  well  with  the  natural  hue  of  the  oak,  as  com- 
pletely to  deceive  the  eyes. 

When  the  glow  of  day  begins  to  soften,  and  the 
sun  is  about  to  set,  these  insects  quit  their  habita- 
tion in  order  to  proceed  in  search  of  food — the  twi- 
light and  the  night  constituting  the  period  of  their 
activity.  Their  movements  are  conducted  with 
wonderful  regularity. — A  single  caterpillar  first  goes 
out  of  the  nest,  and  is  immediately  followed  by 
others  which  form  a  sort  of  procession :  the  leader 
is  succeeded  by  two  moving  abreast ;  that  rank  by 
a  third,  composed  of  three  abreast ;  and  so  on  till 
sometimes  the  last  row  contains  twenty  ranged  side 
by  side  ;  the  ranks  are  so  compact,  that  the  tail  of 
one  row  is  touched  by  the  heads  of  those  which  suc- 
ceed ;  and  in  each  row  the  caterpillars  also  touch 
throughout  the  whole  length  of  the  body.  They 


CH.  XVI.] 


THE  CATERPILLAR. 


271 


sometimes  form  single  files  for  some  length ;  then 
double  and  triple  ones ;  each  being  equal  in  number 
to  the  single  one,  as  represented  in  the  figure.  The 
leader  of  these  "processionaries"  does  not  seem 
to  differ  from  the  body  of  its  companions  either  in 
size,  shape,  or  colour ;  nor  does  there  seem  to  be  a 
natural  leader.  The  first  that  happens  to  quit  the 
nest  appears,  from  that  circumstance  alone,  to  be 
considered  as  the  chief;  the  rest  follow  in  his  train. 
Where  the  mass  is  so  compact,  it  seems  indispen- 
sable that  the  movement  should  be  regulated  with 
the  greatest  precision ;  otherwise  a  degree  of  con- 
fusion would  ensue  which  would  greatly  impede,  if 
not  entirely  stop,  their  progress.  Accordingly,  no- 
thing can  surpass  the  uniformity  and  regularity  ob- 
servable in  their  march :  whatever  be  the  route  of 
the  leader,  the  others  follow  precisely  the  same  steps. 
If  this  leader  should  ascend  to  a  certain  height  and 
then  descend,  each  rank  goes  to  the  identical  spot 
before  it  begins  to  descend ;  if  it  should  halt,  the 
progress  of  the  rest  is  immediately  arrested :  their 
march  presents  an  instance  of  uniformity  so  com- 
plete as  to  render  it  difficult  at  first  sight  to  conceive 
that  the  waving  line  of  living  creatures  which  is 
seen  to  wind  in  a  thousand  figures,  can  possibly  be 
composed  of  so  many  separate  individuals. 
Another  tribe  of  caterpillars,  called  by  Reaumur 


272  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  xvi. 

^af-rollers,  settle  upon  the  oak  :  some  of  its  leaves 
may  be  observed  rolled  from  the  apex  half-way  down 
towards  the  stalk  (fig.  1) ;  others  from  one  side  to- 
wards another  (fg*  2).  Some  of  theso  tubes  are 
composed  of  two  leaves  rolled  tog-ether  (fig>  3),  while 
others  are  constructed  by  bringing1  each  of  the  edges 
of  the  leaf  towards  the  principle  nervure  (fig-  4). 
The  fingers  of  the  most  dexterous  seamstress  could 
not  effect  with  greater  precision,  and  in  a  more  art- 
ful manner,  that  which  these  caterpillars  execute 
without  fingers,  needles,  or  scissors.  Their  inge- 
nious proceedings  are  well  worth  our  attention. 

However  flat  the  surface  of  a  leaf  may  at  first  sight 
appear,  still  on  nearer  inspection  some  portion  of  it 
will  he  found  more  or  less  approaching  to  a  curve ;  as 
soon  as  this  is  discovered  by  the  caterpillar  it  hastens 
to  avail  itself  of  this  advantage,  and,  with  great  art 
and  dexterity,  proceeds  to  increase  the  natural  cur- 
vature. Its  head  may  be  seen  vibrating  like  a  pen- 
dulum, from  the  edge  towards  the  principal  nervure 
of  the  leaf.  After  two  or  three  hundred  of  these 
movements,  the  part  on  which  the  insect  has  been 
operating  may  be  observed  to  be  rolled  up.  The 
mechanical  means  by  which  this  effect  has  been 
produced  appears  in  the  shape  of  a  silken  cord  (fig. 
5).  Two  or  three  of  these  cords,  fixed  at  a  mode- 


rate distance  from  one  another,  will  bend  the  leaf 
considerably  beyond  the  points  to  which  they  are 
attached.  Although  Reaumur  watched  a  caterpillar 
while  at  work,  and  saw  the  leaf  roll  up  under  his 
eyes,  still  he  was  unable  to  satisfy  himself  as  to  the 
causa  which  brought  about  this  effect  It  can 


CH.  XVI. J  THE  CATERPILLAR.  273 

scarcely  be  attributed  to  the  degree  of  contraction 
produced  in  these  little  threads  by  the  process  of 
drying ;  for  when  fresh  spun  and  moist  they  are  so 
extremely  short,  that  such  an  effect  could  scarcely 
arise  from  this  cause. 

If  one  of  these  cords  be  attentively  examined, 
instead  of  being  made  up  of  parallel  rows  of  threads, 
it  will  be  found  to  be  composed  of  two  sets  which 
cross  each  other,  or  decussate.  Various  reasons 


have  been  assigned  for  this  method  of  proceeding ; 
the  following  appears  the  most  satisfactory.  The 
second  set  of  threads  can  only  be  carried  across  the 
first  by  the  head  of  the  insect:  to  effect  this  its 
body  must  rest  upon  the  first  fasciculus ;  and  con- 
sequently the  leaf  will  be  drawn  forward  by  its 
whole  weight.  By  this  means  the  second  set  of 
threads  alone  act  upon  the  leaf,  the  first  set  being 
visibly  relaxed.  Each  of  these  sets  of  threads  is 
singly  equal  to  resist  the  elasticity  of  the  curved 
leaf,  being  indeed  strong  enough  to  bear  the  whole 
weight  of  the  caterpillar.  De  Geer,  attending  to 
the  operations  of  a  species  of  this  kind  of  caterpillar, 
observed,  that  at  each  new  thread  it  spun,  the  edges 
of  the  leaf  gradually  approached  each  other,  and 
were  bent  more  and  more  as  the  caterpillar  spun 
new  threads :  when  the  last  spun  thread  became 
tight,  that  which  preceded  it  appeared  loose  and 
floating  in  the  air.  To  effect  this,  the  caterpillar, 
after  it  has  fixed  a  thread  to  the  two  edges  of  the 
leaf,  and  before  it  spins  another,  draws  it  towards 
itself  by  the  hooks  of  its  feet,  and  by  these  means 
bends  the  leaf:  it  then  spins  another  thread,  to  main- 


274  NATURAL   HISTORY.  £CH.  XVI 

tain  the  leaf  in  this  position,  which  it  again  pulls 
towards  itself;  and  repeats  the  operation  till  it  has 
bent  the  leaf  in  its  whole  direction.  It  now  begins 
again,  placing  the  threads  farther  back  upon  the 
bent  part  of  the  leaf,  and  by  proceeding  in  this 
manner,  rolls  it  up :  when  it  has  finished  this  busi- 
ness, it  strengthens  the  whole  by  fastening  the  ends 
of  the  leaf  together.  The  habitation  thus  formed, 
is  a  kind  of  hollow  cylinder,  open  to  the  light  at 
both  ends,  the  sides  of  it  affording  the  insect  both 
food  and  protection  :  for  within  it  the  creature  feeds 
in  safety.  In  the  same  case  it  also  undergoes  its 
transformation :  at  the  approach  of  this  change  the 
creature  lines  the  rolled  leaf  with  silk,  that  the 
rough  parts  of  it  may  not  injure  the  tender  chrysalis. 

Sometimes  the  leaf  which  is  to  be  rolled  up  hap- 
pens to  be  thick  and  its  nervures  strong ;  in  this 
case  the  insect  eats  down  the  prominent  part  of  the 
nervures  and  levels  them  with  the  surface  of  the 
leaf;  not,  however,  throughout  the  whole  of  their 
length,  but  a  bit  here  and  a  bit  there,  leaving  the 
intervals  entire.  The,  parts  thus  attacked  and  con- 
sumed appeared  to  Reaumur  to  correspond  both  in 
number  and  situation  with  the  points  in  which  the 
leaf  was  to  be  curved  in  order  to  begin  a  new  turn. 
The  leaf  of  the  oak  being  deeply  notched,  its  in- 
equalities occasionally  project  so  much,  that  it  is 
difficult  to  bring  them  within  the  curve  of  the  rest 
of  the  leaf.  A  thread  tied  to  one  of  these  project- 
ing points  merely  bends  the  edge  a  little,  leaving  the 
rest  nearly  flat.  A  human  mechanic  would  cut  off 
this  inconvenient  superfluity;  the  caterpillar  effects 
that  which  amounts  to  the  same  thing ;  it  fixes  it 
with  a  thousand  threads  to  the  side  of  the  leaf;  and 
then  works  it  with  its  head  into  a  round  form. 

The  insect  proceeds  in  this  manner  to  roll  the  leaf, 
until  it  has  encased  itself  in  four  or  five  folds.  And 
in  addition  to  the  silken  bands  used  to  secure  these 
folds  longitudinally,  a  couple  are  tied  to  one  or  both 


OH.  XVI.]  THE  CATERPILLAR.  275 

of  the  extremities  of  the  cylinder ;  but  so  arranged 
as  to  furnish  the  insect  with  ready  means  both  of  in- 
gress and  egress.  While  this  singularly  constructed 
mansion  protects  the  insect  from  its  numerous  ene- 
mies, it  furnishes  it  also  with  food.  It  nibbles  and 
consumes  successively  the  layers  which  compose 
its  case  ;  so  that  when  the  cylinder  is  examined, 
after  the  lapse  of  a  certain  space  of  time,  it  will  be 
found  at  last  to  consist  only  of  the  outeimost  roll. 
Having  eaten  itself  out  of  house  and  hold,  it  then 
sets  about  constructing  another  dwelling. 

The  last  of  the  habitations  formed  by  the  cater- 
pillar differs  somewhat  from  the  first ;  it  is  larger  in 
size,  to  accommodate  the  insect,  now  grown  more 
bulky.  The  leaf  is  not  bent  so  much,  and  conse- 
quently it  does  not  offer  the  same  resistance :  the 
insect  appears  aware  of  this  fact,  and  contents  itself 
with  making  its  cordage  less  strong.  Instead  of 
bending  the  leaf  by  little  cables  placed  at  intervals, 
it  spins  a  continuous  wreb,  which  extends  the  whole 
length  of  the  leaf.  This  web,  like  the  cords  already 


described,  is  composed  of  two  decussating  sets  of 
fibres :  the  first  set  acted  on  by  the  weight  of  the 
insect's  body  draws  the  leaf  downwards  ;  the  second 
set  secures  in  its  proper  place  the  additional  curve 
which  has  been  thus  gained. 

Within  this  cylinder  the  caterpillar  undergoes  its 
metamorphosis  'into  a  chrysalis  and  imago.  In  its 
former  state  the  skin  is  at  first  so  soft  that  it  requires 
protection;  and  to  ensure  it,  the  inside  of  the  cell 
is  lined  with  a  slight  layer  of  silk.  When  about  to 


276  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [cH.  XVI. 

assume  the  form  of  a  perfect  insect,  it  gets  rid  of  its 
chrysalid  envelope  by  the  efforts  which  it  makes  to 
pass  through  the  end  of  the  cylinder:  this  being 
narrower  than  the  body  of  the  insect,  scrapes  off, 
and  retains  the  skin. 

The  habitation  of  a  small  leaf-rolling  caterpillar 
is  curious,  from  the  pains  taken  to  place  it  in  a  per 
pendicular  position  on  the  leaf  itself.  For  this  pur 
pose  a  portion  of  the  leaf  is  cut  off  in  the  mannei 
represented  in  the  annexed  figure.  Before  it  cuts  in 


the  direction  of  c  d  the  leaf  is  bent  as  seen  in  fig.  2. 
In  effecting  this  object,  the  caterpillar  employs  the 
means  already  described:  it  mounts  the  threads, 
and  contracts  them  by  the  weight  of  its  own  body. 
The  leaf  having  been  thus  bent  is  then  cut  in  the 
direction  c  6,  and  rolled  up  as  near  the  perpendicu- 
lar as.  possible. 

There  is  another  caterpillar  whose  proceedings  are 
somewhat  similar ;  it  rolls  up  into  a  trumpet-shaped 


CH.  XVI.]  THE  CATERPILLAR.  277 

tube  the  portion  of  the  leaf  contained  between  two 
indentations.  The  bottom  of  the  tube  is  then  closed 
by  another  piece  of  leaf  attached  to  it  by  means  of 
silken  cords. 

Another  tribe  of  caterpillars,  equally  numerous 
with  the  leaf-rollers,  may  be  termed  leaf-benders. 
Some  of  these  give  the  leaf  but  a  slight  bend,  while 
others  bend  it  almost  thoroughly.  And  so  admirable 
is  the  instinct  with  which  they  are  endowed,  that  in 
feeding  they  consume  only  a  portion  of  the  leaf;  the 
upper  membrane  and  the  nervures  are  left  untouched, 
which  secures  to  them  both  a  place  of  shelter  and  a 
magazine  of  provisions. 

These  caterpillars  do  not  require  to  be  accommo- 
dated with  a  narrow  case  composed  of  many  folds  ; 
they  are  content  with  one  large  curve,  which  is  pro- 
duced by  a  very  curious  process.  The  insect  takes 
advantage  of  that  part  of  the  edge  of  a  leaf  which 
happens  to  be  naturally  somewhat  bent :  to  this  some 
threads  are  attached ;  the  other  end  of  these  threads 
is  fixed  near  the  great  nervure  in  the  centre  of  the 
leaf;  owing  to  the  natural  bend  of  the  leaf  some 
vacant  space  is  interposed  between  these  threads 
and  the  surface.  The  insect  mounts  upon  the 
threads  ;  its  weight  increases  the  bend ;  the  edge  of 
the  leaf  is  brought  nearer  the  central  nervure ;  and 
to  keep  it  in  this  position,  the  animal  spins  and  ap- 
plies a  new  set  of  shorter  cords.  As  the  insect  does 
not  want  a  narrow  case,  but  merely  a  curve  which 
describes  the  segment  of  a  large  circle,  it  begins 


Aa 


278  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [cH.  XVl. 

now  to  spin  a  new  set  of  threads ;  one  end  of  these 
is  glued  to  the  old  web,  and  the  other  end  near  to  or 
beyond  the  centre  of  the  leaf,  as  it  may  seem  neces- 
sary. 

These  two  webs  incline  towards  each  other  at  a 
certain  angle.  The  effect  upon  the  leaf  is  the  same 
as  if  the  curve  had  been  produced  by  threads  nearly 
double  the  length  of  those  which  compose  either 
web.  The  leaf  having  thus  acquired  a  greater  bend, 
'uhe  insect  mounts  at  the  angular  junction  of  the  two 
webs,  and  begins  to  spin  a  third  set  of  threads, 
which,  like  the  first,  has  one  end  attached  to  the  in- 
dentations of  the  leaf,  while  the  other  is  fastened 
near  the  central  nervure.  This  is  then  crossed  with 
a  fourth  web  formed  in  the  manner  already  de- 
scribed. These  parts  of  cross  webs  may  be  seen 
rising  one  above  another,  until  the  requisite  curve 
has  been  given  to  the  leaf.  It  may  be  asked  why 
the  insect  does  not  at  once  spin  one  long  thread 
instead  of  two  shorter  ones  crossing  each  other  ? 
Simply  because  it  cannot :  the  length  of  the  thread 
is  determined  by  the  length  of  the  animal's  reach. 
While  engaged  in  fabricating  these  successive  layers 
of  webs,  the  insect  may  frequently  be  seen  de- 
scending to  cut  the  inferior  threads,  which,  from  the 
greater  tension  of  the  superior  one,  have  become 
slack,  and  consequently  useless.  This  operation  it 
performs  by  means  of  its  fore-legs,  using  them  as 
we  do  our  hands.  When  the  insect  feeds  upon  the 
parenchyma  and  one  membrane  of  the  leaf,  it  is 
extremely  cautious  not  to  touch  the  other  mem- 
brane or  the  nervures.  By  this  means  not  only  are 
the  materials  of  its  covering  provided,  but  the  pro- 
cess of  fabricating  it  is  greatly  facilitated ;  and  the 
tent,  though  considerably  diminished  in  weight,  is 
not  less  firm,  since  the  natural  cordage  (the  nervures) 
is  left  entire.  The  more  minutely  we  examine  the 
works  of  nature,  the  more  clearly  shall  we  trace 
evidence  of  design.  Whether  we  contemplate  the 


en.  xvi.J 


THE    CATERPILLAR. 


279 


measured  movements  of  revolving1  worlds,  or  the 
humble  labours  of  a  puny  insect,  we  shall  be  forced 
to  recognise  in  them  the  arrangements  and  contri- 
vances of  an  Omniscient  mind. 

Some  species  of  caterpillars  simply  tie  several 
leaves  together  with  silken  threads,  and  thus  form 
a  hollow  tube  in  which  they  lodge  and  feed.  They 
carefully  destroy  the  bud  at  the  extremity  of  the 
shoot,  lest  its  sprouting  should  tear  asunder  their 
silken  bands. 

The  number  of  caterpillars  which  enclose  them- 
selves by  the  process  of  rolling,  bending,  or  tying 
leaves  together  is  very  great ;  nor  is  this  habit  con- 
fined to  one  class.  Spiders,  beetles,  and  various 
other  insects,  proceed  under  the  impulse  of  the  same 
instinct.  The  description  which  has  been  already 
given  of  the  habits  of  one  class  will  equally  apply 
to  the  proceedings  of  all  the  other  tribes. 

Some  caterpillars,  not  possessing  the  art  of  those 
which  have  been  already  noticed,  content  themselves 
with  the  shelter  which  they  procure  by  eating  away 
the  pulpy  substance  contained  between  the  upper 
and  under  surfaces  of  the  leaf.  They  are  so  small, 
that  even  the  thinnest  leaf  is  capable  of  furnishing 
them  with  an  ample  lodging.  If  several  leaves  be 


1 .  The  habitation  of  miners  of  galleries. 

3  The  habitation  of  those  which  mine  first  a  gallery  then  an  area. 


280  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  xvi. 

examined,  whitish  spots  or  streaks  may  be  observed 
on  their  green  surface :  these  mark  the  paths  and 
progress  of  the  insects  which  mine  them.  Some 
caterpillars  form  galleries  only,  some  only  areas  ; 
while  a  third  tribe,  after  having  made  a  gallery,  mine 
an  area  at  the  end  of  it. 

Each  of  these  galleries  or  areas  is  generally  oc- 
cupied by  a  single  insect ;  and  when  there  happens 
to  be  more  than  one  tenant,  no  inconvenience  arises 
from  the  circumstance ;  for  the  comparative  size  of 
the  leaf  is  so  great  as  to  furnish  an  ample  territory 
for  the  accommodation  of  a  number  of  these  diminu- 
tive inhabitants.  In  some  cases,  many  of  these  in- 
sects, having  arrived  at  a  certain  size,  may  be  seen 
under  the  same  tent,  and  associating  together  in  the 
most  peaceable  and  harmonious  manner;  while 
others,  to  the  number  of  twenty  or  thirty,  herd  to- 
gether from  the  moment  in  which  they  are  first 
evolved  from  the  egg,  and  unite  their  efforts  in  ex- 
cavating a  common  covering  for  the  whole  commu- 
nity. That  beneficent  Power  which  has  given  ex- 
istence and  life  to  this  minute  atom,  has  at  the  same 
time  made  an  ample  provision  for  all  its  wants  by 
conferring  upon  it  an  instinct  which  operates  as 
surely  and  as  unerringly  as  the  most  obvious  of 
nature's  laws.  This  instinct  teaches  the  perfect 
insect  that  one  leaf  is  incapable  of  furnishing  nou- 
rishment to  all  her  young:  hence  the  provident 
mother  never  deposites  upon  the  same  leaf  a  greater 
number  of  eggs  than  the  number  of  caterpillars 
which  its  pulpy  substance  will  be  found  capable  of 
sustaining.  Having  thus  placed  an  adequate  number 
of  eggs  on  one  leaf,  the  insect  proceeds  to  'another, 
and  then  to  a  third,  until  her  whole  stock  has  been 
laid. 

The  larva,  having  been  evolved  from  the  egg,  im- 
mediately begins  to  mine ;  and  the  spot  at  which  it 
commenced  its  operations  may  readily  be  known ; 
and  by  holding  up  the  leaf  between  the  eye  and  the 


CII.  XVI.]  THE    CATERPILLAR.  281 

light,  the  exact  situation  of  the  insect  may  also  be 
discovered.  The  narrowest  part  of  the  gallery  is 
that  through  which  it  has  been  entered ;  the  insect 
as  it  proceeds  grows  in  size ;  it  requires  more  food 
as  well  as  more  space :  hence  its  mine  becomes 
gradually  wider ;  the  head  of  the  creature  will  there- 
fore be  found  towards  the  widest  part,  and  the  tail 
towards  the  narrowest  end  of  the  streak.  The  in- 
struments which  these  insects  use  in  mining  are  then 


The  commencement  of  the  gallery  is  under  the  stalk  of  the  leaf;  the 
galleiy  is  seen  gradually  to  widen,  and  at  the  farthest  and  widest 
part  the  insect  is  lodged. 

teeth ;  some  of  them  are  provided  with  a  beak  which 
they  employ  like  a  pickaxe.  The  central  hook  is 
fixed  in  the  leaf  as  a  fulcrum,  and  is  bent  and  moved 
about  in  various  directions. 


Many  of  these  miners  are  incapable  of  conducting 
their  operations,  except  in  their  native  gallery ;  when 
removed  to  another  leaf  their  instinct  seems  to  for- 
sake them:  they  appear  unable  to  begin  another 
mine,  and  consequently  perish.  Others,  however, 
endowed  with  different  instincts,  have  been  known 
to  change  the  leaf  on  which  they  feed  whenever  the 
Aa2 


282  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [cH.  XVI. 

supply  of  nourishment  originally  provided  for  them 
begins  to  fail. 

When  about  to  undergo  their  metamorphosis,  some 
of  these  insects  quit  their  habitations,  while  others 
continue  in  them.  The  latter  class  adopt  a  precau- 
tion which  well  deserves  attention;  the  range  of  the 
gallery  which  they  have  mined  is  not  equidistant 
from  the  upper  and  lower  membranes  of  the  leaf, 
being  much  nearer  the  former ;  hence,  the  caterpillar 
cannot  be  seen  through  the  under  surface  of  the  leaf, 
because  a  considerable  portion  of  the  parenchyma, 
or  pulpy  matter,  remains  unconsumed  between  the 
floor  of  the  gallery  and  the  inferior  membrane  of 
the  leaf.  On  the  upper  surface,  however,  the  cater- 
pillar eats  away  all  the  parenchyma ;  so  that  on  that 
side  the  epidermis  alone  forms  a  thin  and  vaulted 
roof,  through  which  the  insect  may  be  readily  seen. 
But  when  about  to  assume  the  defenceless  state  of 
a  chrysalis,  its  instinct  impels  it  to  seek  a  place  of 
greater  security:  with  this  view  it  dives  from  its 
gallery,  making  its  may  directly  downwards  until  it 
reaches  the  lower  surface  of  the  leaf,  where  it  dis- 
tends a  portion  of  the  parenchyma,  which  was  left 
uneaten  arid  interposed  between  the  lower  epidermis 
and  the  gallery  of  the  insect :  at  this  period  it  would, 
therefore,  be  vain  to  look  for  the  insect  in  its  usual 
gallery,  near  the  upper  skin  of  the  leaf,  and  it  might 
be  concluded  that  the  little  inhabitant  had  entirely 
forsaken  its  original  abode ;  but  on  turning  up  the 
leaf,  a  small  and  rounded  protuberance  may  be  per- 
ceived, under  which  the  creature  has  been  instinct- 
ively taught  to  shelter  itself,  during  its  torpid  state, 
from  its  natural  enemies. 

Many  of  these  mining  caterpillars  turn  into  moths, 
which,  had  they  been  as  large  as  they  are  beautiful, 
would  have  presented  an  appearance  marvellously 
brilliant.  Assisted  by  a  magnifier,  the  eye  may  per- 
ceive the  little  creature  radiant  with  shining  gold, 
its  wings  streaked  here  and  there  with  silver  of  daz- 


THE    CATERPILLAR 


283 


CH.  XVI.] 

zling  white,  and  dotted  with  jetty  spots  so  placed  as 
to  heighten  the  whole  effect. 

There  is  a  tribe  of  caterpillars  which,  from  their 
regular  and  measured  method  of  moving,  have  been 
called  "  Surveyors."  They  first  fix  the  head  and 
bring  the  tail  close  to  it,  the  intervening  body  being 
bent  into  an  arch ;  the  head  is  then  stretched  out 
again  and  fixed  in  another  place.  By  this  means 
each  progressive  movement  is  rendered  of  equal 
length,  and  hence  the  name  which  has  been  bestowed 
upon  them.  Many  of  these  possess  the  curious 
faculty  of  remaining  stiffly  in  the  same  position,  and 
jutting  out  into  the  air,  so  that  not  only  their  natural 
enemies,  the  birds,  but  even  man,  have  mistaken 
them  for  twigs  of  the  shrubs  on  which  they  happen 
to  be  placed. 


Rosel's  gardener,  having  taken  up  what  he  thought 
a  piece  of  wood,  dropped  it  with  horror,  when  he 
perceived  that  it  began  to  writhe  between  his  fingers. 


284  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [CH.  XVI. 

Other  caterpillars  place  themselves  in  attitudes 
which  present  a  very  formidable  appearance,  and 
although  perfectly  harmless,  make  a  very  disgreeable 
impression  upon  the  mind.  The  caterpillar  of  a 
hawk-moth,  when  in  a  state  of  repose,  assumes  the 
position  of  the  sculptured  sphinx. 

Most  of  the  surveyors  possess  a  contrivance  for 
transporting-  themselves  from  one  place  to  another, 
which  must  not  be  overlooked :  wherever  they  ad- 
vance, they  fix  a  silken  cord ;  hence  their  track  is 
constantly  marked  by  a  line  of  silk.  The  use  of 
this  provision  becomes  immediately  apparent  when- 
ever the  leaf  or  twig  on  which  they  are  found  hap- 
pens to  be  shaken.  The  creature  drops  from  its 
place,  and  would  fall  quite  to  the  ground,  if  it  did 
not  possess  the  means  of  suspending-  itself;  but  it 
is  furnished  with  spinners,  which  secrete  silken 
matter,  and  it  possesses  also  the  faculty  of  giving 
out  as  much  of  this  substance  as  may  be  required 
for  its  purposes ;  it  seems  to  have  a  sphincter  for 
this  especial  object.  By  means  of  a  silken  appara- 
tus thus  prepared,  it  is  enabled  at  any  time  to  descend 
from  the  top  of  a  high  tree,  and  mount  again,  without 
undergoing  the  fatigue  of  climbing  up  the  twisted 
branches;  the  descent  is  regulated  by  the  wishes 
and  purposes  of  the  insect,  rapid  or  slow  as  may  be 
required ;  and  if  necessary,  its  descent  may  be  in- 
stantly arrested,  and  the  animal  may  remain  for  any 
length  of  time  suspended  in  mid-air.  The  two  an- 
nexed figures  will  explain  the  mechanism  of  these 
proceedings.  In  the  first,  the  creature  is  seen  sus- 
pended by  its  thread;  in  the  second,  it  is  represented 
in  the  act  of  mounting:  for  the  latter  pinpose,  it 
seizes  the  silken  cord  between  its  two  teeth,  and 
curving  up  that  portion  of  its  body,  in  which  its  six 
true  legs  are  situated,  it  lays  hold  of  the  cord  with 
the  last  two  pair ;  this  secures  to  it  another  fixed 
point ;  it  th^n  lifts  up  its  head  a  second  time,  lays 
hold  of  an  additional  piece  of  the  silk ;  and  by  a 


CH.  XVII.*!  CHRYSALIS.  285 

repetition  of  its  former  action  it  gradually  ascends 
to  the  point  which  it  wishes  to  reach ;  when  safely 
landed,  it  disembarrasses  itself  of  the  silk  which 
nad  been  collected  between  its  legs. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

CHRYSALIS,    OR   AURELIA. 

Caterpillar  when  about  to  change  into  a  Chrysalis  fastens  itself  to  a 
Leaf  or  Stem— Spins  a  little  Web— Gets  rid  of  its  old  Cage—Sus- 
pends itself  by  a  Girth  or  Band  formed  of  Silk. 

THE  insect,  having  lived  its  appointed  time  in  the 
caterpillar  state,  and  incapable  of  perpetuating  its 
species,  prepares  for  those  wonderful  changes  of 
form  and  functions  which  are  destined  to  end  in  the 
production  of  a  creature  perfect  in  its  kind.  If  a 
imman  being,  surrounded  by  enemies  eager  to  injure 
or  destroy  him,  felt  that  he  should  fall  into  a  state 


286  NATURAL    HISTORY.  fcH.  XVII. 

which  would  incapacitate  him  either  to  flee  or  de- 
fend himself  from  his  foes,  he  would  naturally  en- 
deavour to  mid  some  secluded  spot  into  which  he 
might  retire  in  the  hour  of  peril.  The  larvae  of  in- 
sects when  preparing  for  their  first  metamorphosis 
seem  to  act  upon  a  similar  principle :  they  appear 
to  be  aware  of  their  defenceless  condition  ;  and  that 
Being  who  gave  them  life  has  instructed  them  in  the 
best  means  of  preserving  this  precious  gift.  Some 
have  been  taught  to  weave  for  themselves  a  silken 
case  ;  others,  ignorant  of  this  art,  secrete  themselves 
under  ground,  and  in  the  kindly  shelter  of  their 
earthy  tomb  find  that  security  and  rest  which  are 
denied  them  elsewhere.  Others  seek  some  solitary 
spot  far  removed  from  their  ordinary  haunts,  and 
there  suspend  themselves  beyond  the  reach  of  their 
natural  enemies. 

The  positions  in  which  they  place  themselves  are 
extremely  various :  in  one  species  the  suspension  is 
vertical ;  in  another  the  head  is  higher  than  the  tail ; 
in  a  third  the  body  is  placed  in  a  horizontal  position. 
Some  fix  themselves  by  the  tail  only,  with  the  head 
hanging  down ;  others  pass  a  girdle  of  silk  around 
their  bodies,  and  are  thus  suspended  in  a  sort  of 
hammock ;  while  others  appear  simply  glued  to  the 
wood  or  stone  to  which  they  are  attached. 

When  the  moment  of  change  approaches,  the 
caterpillar  fixes  upon  some  part  of  a  leaf  or  stem, 
where  it  spins  a  little  web;  it  first  lines  a  small 
space  to  which  it  attaches  additional  threads,  so  as 
to  make  a  little  cone,  or  rather  button,  projecting 
downwards  :  this  being  finished,  it  fixes  itself  to  the 
end  of  the  cone  by  means  of  hooks  with  which  its 
two  last  feet  are  furnished;  and  in  order  that  its 
hold  may  be  made  firm,  a  part  of  the  body,  impelled 
by  alternate  elongations  and  contractions,  is  well 
driven  into  the  meshes  of  the  cone.  This  being 
effected,  the  head  of  the  insect  is  then  permitted  to 
hang  downwards.  Shortly  afterward,  however,  it  is 
seen  to  quit  this  vertical  posture,  and  to  curve  its 


CH.  XVII.]  CHRYSALIS.  287 

back  by  elevating-  the  head ;  and  in  this  position  it 
will  remain  for  more  than  half  an  hour.  This 
movement  is  frequently  repeated ;  and  at  each  suc- 
ceeding repetition  of  it,  the  body  of  the  caterpillar 
acquires  a  greater  degree  of  convexity.  A  strain  is 
thus  occasioned  in  the  skin  of  the  back,  which  soon 
produces  a  rent  in  that  part.  This  process — a  work 
of  at  least  twenty- four  hours  and  great  labour — 


causes  the  skin  to  break  at  last,  and  a  portion  of  the 
chrysalis  becomes  visible  through  the  rent.  White 
confined  by  the  skin  of  the  caterpillar,  the  chrysalis 
is  long  and  narrow ;  but  as  soon  as  a  fissure  has 
been  made  in  this  outward  covering,  it  begins  to 
contract,  and  its  anterior  portion  swells  out  so  much, 
that  the  rent  is  thereby  rapidly  enlarged.  As  soon 
as  the  fissure  has  been  rendered  sufficiently  large  to 
permit  a  portion  of  the  chrysalis  to  protrude,  the 
mode  of  action  is  changed.  By  various  contortions 
and  movements  of  the  body,  the  skin  is  ttirust  to- 
wards the  tail,  much  in  the  same  manner  as  we  push 
down  a  stocking  towards  the  foot.  The  length  of 
the  skin  becomes  thus  compressed  'nto  a  multitude 
of  folds. 


288  NATURAL   HISTORY.  [cH.  XVH. 

But  the  most  singular  part  of  the  operation  re- 
mains to  be  described.  The  caterpillar  was  sus- 
pended to  the  silken  cone  by  legs  and  hooks  attached 
to  its  own  skin ;  that  skin,  however,  with  its  append- 


ant  legs  and  hooks,  the  chrysalis  must  cast  off; 
but,  although  destitute  of  limbs  or  hooks,  it  yet 
contrives  to  fix  itself  on  the  same  cone  to  which 
the  caterpillar  was  attached.  When  the  skin  has 
been  well  thrust  down,  the  insect  seizes  some  part 
of  it  in  one  of  the  indentations  between  two  of  the 
rings  of  its  body:  this  secures  a  resting-place, 
which  enables  it  to  withdraw  its  tail  altogether  from 
the  old  skin. 

Wholly  freed  from  its  former  covering,  the  chry- 
salis is  now  attached  to  a  frail  and  withered  slough, 
and  suspended  in  mid-air  in  a  situation  of  great  peril. 
It  becomes  now  indispensable  that  it  should  fix  itself 
to  the  silken  cone.  But  to  a  creature  hanging  with 
its  head  downwards,  and  destitute  of  limbs,  this 
would  seem  a  hopeless  undertaking.  Destitute  and 
helpless,  however,  as  its  condition  appears,  nature 
has  not  left  it  without  adequate  resources.  It  elon- 
gates that  part  of  the  body  which  is  above  the  rings, 
by  which  it  holds  on,  and  seizes  by  the  interval  be- 
tween two  rings  still  higher  than  those,  another 
part  of  its  caterpillar  skin.  Having  in  this  manner 
advanced  by  three  or  four  steps  to  the  required 
height,  it  feels  about  with  its  tail  for  the  silken  cone. 
Having  at  last  found  this  cone,  it  fixes  itself  to  it 


CH.  XVII.]  CHRYSALIS.  289 

by  means  of  hooks  with  which  that  part  of  its  body 
is  furnished. 

To  withdraw  the  tail  from  the  withered  case ;  to 
climb  up  that  case,  and  hook  its  body  to  the  silken 
cone,  is  an  operation  so  delicate  and  hazardous  as 
to  excite  the  greatest  wonder,  that  an  insect  which 
executes  it  only  once  during  the  whole  term  of  its 
existence,  should  be  found  capable  of  executing  it 
so  well.  "  Assuredly,"  says  Reaumur,  "  it  must 
have  been  taught  to  perform  its  task  by  some  great 
master." 

But  the  chrysalis  does  not  seem  to  be  content  with 
merely  withdrawing  itself  from  its  ancient  hide :  it 
will  not  suffer  it  to  remain  suspended  in  its  own 
neighbourhood.  In  order  to  rid  itself  of  the  annoy- 
ance of  the  offensive  slough,  it  bends  a  section  of 
the  lower  part  of  its  body  into  the  form  of  the  letter 
S,  and  then  gives  the  whole  a  jerk,  which  causes 


both  its  o\vn  body  and  the  attached  slough  to  spin 
round  eighteen  or  twenty  times  on  their  axis.  As 
the  slough  and  chrysalis  must  necessarily  go  round 
together,  and  as  the  slough  is  farther  than  the  chry- 
salis from  the  centre  of  gyration,  it  is  evident  that 
the  attaching  hooks  and  threads  of  the  slough  must 
suffer  a  greater  strain  than  those  of  the  chrysalis : 
consequently  the  former  give  way  first.  This  is  no 
sooner  perceived  by  the  chrysalis,  than  it  resumes 
Bb 


290  NATURAL    HISTORY.  [cH.  XVII. 

its  vertical  position,  and  allows  the  skin  to  drop.  If 
the  first  series  of  pirouettes  prove  unsuccessful,  the 
chrysalis  tries  another  in  the  contrary  direction; 
and  if  after  repeated  efforts  it  fails  to  get  rid  of  the 
nuisance,  it  calmly  and  patiently  submits  to  an  evil 
which  it  cannot  remove. 

This  vertical  position  does  not  however  suit  all 
caterpillars ;  there  are  some  which  fix  themselves 
in  an  inclined  or  even  horizontal  position.  To  effect 
this,  a  set  of  threads  is  passed  round  their  bodies, 
and  then  attached  to  the  wall  or  a  part  of  some 
plant  from  which  they  remain  suspended. 

These  girths  or  supporting  belts  are  formed  in 
various  ways,  but  always  of  the  same  material, — silk 
spun  for  that  purpose  by  the  caterpillars.  The  fol- 
lowing figures  will  explain  some  of  those  processes 
by  which  the  suspension  is  effected.  In  the  first 


figure  (Jig.  1),  the  caterpillar  is  seen  to  bend  its 
body  to  the  point  where  the  end  of  the  thread  is  to 
be  fixed :  in  the  second  (fig.  2),  it  presents  itself 
in  the  act  of  carrying  over  the  body,  by  doubling  it- 
self on  its  back :  while  in  the  third  (fig.  3),  it  ap- 
pears to  turn  round  for  the  purpose  of  fixing  it  on 
the  farther  side.  When  a  sufficient  number  of 
threads  have  been  thus  spun  to  form  its  web,  the 
insect  gently  withdraws  its  head,  assumes  a  straight 
position,  and  quietly  awaits  the  hour  of  its  trans- 
formation. 

The  girth  which  is  passed  round  the  body  of  the 
caterpillar  in  order  to  suspend  it  when  it  shall  have 
assumed  the  chrysalid  form,  is  fabricated  sometimes 


CH.  XVII. J  CHRYSALIS.  291 

in  the  mode  represented  in  the  annexed  figures.     On 
one  side  of  a  stalk  or  leaf,  it  glues  some  of  the  viscid 


matter  secreted  by  its  spinner;  it  then  gradually 
brings  its  head  into  a  position  which  enables  it  to 
pass  the  silken  cord  from  a  to  6  where  it  is  sup- 
ported by  one  of  its  legs ;  introducing  the  two  other 
legs  of  that  side  under  the  rest ;  the  insect  then 
carries  it  from  b  to  c :  it  is  then  continued  from  c  to 
d,  which  completes  the  loop,  or  half  circle.  When 
a  sufficient  number  of  threads  has  been  thus  passed 
from  a  to  t/,  the  loop  has  acquired  a  requisite  strength : 
— the  insect  then  holds  it  up  with  its  two  fore  legs  : 
bending  its  head  between  these  legs,  it  passes  the 
loop  over  its  back ;  and  by  the  action  of  the  rings, 
it  gradually  brings  it  to  that  part  of  the  body  whrA 
is  best  calculated  to  balance  the  chrysalis. 

In  spite,  however,  of  all  the  care  which  the  ir.sect 
takes  to  sustain  the  loop,  it  occasionally  hpppens 
that  the  threads  slip  off  its  legs  and  fall.  This  is  a 
woful  calamity  to  the  unhappy  caterpillar.  It  does 
its  best  to  repair  the  damage ;  with  marvellous  pa- 
tience it  endeavours  to  collect  the  scattered  fila- 
ments, and  secure  them  once  more  between  its  legs. 
One  unlucky  insect  was  seen  by  Reaumur,  trying 
every  contortion  of  limb  to  effect  this  purpose,  but 
all  in  vain.  After  all  its  exertion,  it  only  succeeded 
in  gathering  about  half  the  number  of  threads  which 
had  formed  the  cord,  the  rest  having  become  hope- 
lessly entangled ;  and  being  either  unwilling  or  un- 
able to  spin  an  additional  supply,  it  suspended  itself 
by  this  imperfect  girdJe.  As  it  might  have  been  aru 


292  NATURAL  HISTORY.  [CH.  XVII. 

ticipated,  the  suspending1  girdle  proving  too  weak  to 
sustain  the  motions  of  the  chrysalis,  gave  way,  and 
the  miserable  insect  consequently  fell  to  the  ground 
and  perished. 

If  we  open  one  of  these  chrysalis  or  aurelias, 
from  which  a  brilliant  butterfly  will  emerge  at  the 
proper  season,  all  we  shall  be  able  to  discover,  es- 
pecially at  first,  is  a  mass  of  pap  or  soft  substance 
apparently  putrefied,  in  which  every  thing  seems 
confounded ;  but  this  soft  mass,  however  confused 
it  may  appear  to  the  eye,  contains  the  elements  of 
the  future  insect.  Under  the  action  of  heat,  the 
superfluous  portion  of  the  nutrimental  substances 
gradually  transpires  through  the  film  which  encloses 
them;  the  external  film  itself  becomes  by  degrees 
tinctured  by  a  most  beautiful  vermilion,  and  the  limbs 
and  features,  which  at  first  lay  concealed  in  the 
mass,  begin  to  disengage  themselves  from  the  case 
which  contained  them,  and  which  now  bursts  open: 
then  it  is  that  the  head  unfolds  itself  to  our  view, 
the  horns  and  legs  lengthen,  the  wings  expand ;  and 
at  last  the  butterfly,  retaining  no  trace  or  resem- 
blance of  its  former  condition,  wings  its  flight 
through  the  air.  The  caterpillar,  which  is  changed 
into  a  nymph  or  chrysalis,  and  the  butterfly  that 
proceeds  from  it,  are  two  animals  essentially  differ- 
ent in  form,  as  well  as  in  manners  and  habits.  The 
first  being  altogether  terrestrial,  crawled  slowly  and 
heavily  along  the  ground;  the  second  is  agility  it- 
self, and  so  far  from  limiting  its  motions  to  the  earth, 
it  appears  to  disdain  reposing  on  its  lap.  The  first, 
all  shaggy,  frequently  presented  a  hideous  aspect ; 
the  other  is  arrayed  in  colours  glowing  with  the 
most  brilliant  and  beautiful  tints.  The  first  fed 
upon  the  coarsest  and  grossest  food;  the  latter 
ranges  from  flower  to  flower,  regales  itself  with 
honey  and  dew,  and  perpetually  varies  its  enjoy- 
ments. 

END  OF  THE  FIRST  SERIES. 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 


AN  INITIAL  FINE  OP  25  CENTS 

WILL  BE  ASSESSED  FOR  FAILURE  TO  RETURN 
THIS  BOOK  ON  THE  DATE  DUE.  THE  PENALTY 
WILL  INCREASE  TO  SO  CENTS  ON  THE  FOURTH 
DAY  AND  TO  $1.OO  ON  THE  SEVENTH  DAY 
OVERDUE. 


JAN  2  6  m 


BIOLOGY 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


